DJ Snowflake and Scrooge
by Cactusgirl329
Summary: A struggling radio station gets a chance to boost ratings and sponsors when one Bed and Breakfast located in the middle of nowhere asks them to run a special Christmas show in the dead of night. The countdown to Christmas commences. Brittana. AU. M.
1. December 1st

**Summary: A struggling radio station gets a chance to boost ratings and sponsors when one Bed and Breakfast located in the middle of nowhere asks them to run a special Christmas show in the dead of night. The countdown to Christmas commences. Brittana. AU. M. **

**Warnings: none! I've been doing this nice/fluffy fic stuff a lot recently. Except sMut! There must always be that. ;)**

**A/N: I started writing this last December when I was going crazy finishing my final semester of grad school but I didn't get to write it because of time constraints. I'm really excited to do this. It's my first time doing anything like this so hopefully it goes great! I mean in my mind, it's essentially a very gay Hallmark Christmas movie! Haha **

**Anyway, big big big shout out to Whitney who not only helped brainstorm ideas, do research, and edit, BUT she did the cover art and the posters and really anything that's cool and visual because she's kinda amazing. Fact. True fact. And of course, thank you thank you to my girlfriend for editing even though she's in the middle of finals for her semester.**

**Without further ado, presenting Brittany and Santana in the Christmas series…**

* * *

><p><strong>DJ Snowflake and Scrooge<strong>

**_December 1_**  
><em>10:15 pm<em>

_You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen_  
><em>Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen…<em>

_The first Noël the angel did say_  
><em>Was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay.<em>

_We three kings of Orient are_  
><em>Bearing gifts we traversed afar.<em>

Each song faded and then rolled into the next one.

Christmas song after Christmas song played. But behind every selection and holiday song, a finger checked the feed, adjusted the volume, and picked the next song.

The outro to _We Three Kings _sounded through her headset and throughout the sound booth and it would be playing in the homes and cars of anyone listening. But for the first time since WMHS 97.3 started playing non-stop Christmas melodies over the Thanksgiving holiday, a female voice echoed back through the feed during the nighttime playset.

"Welcome my little night elves to the first of many late night holiday set lists from the middle of what we should probably just call the North Pole with yours truly, DJ Snowflake. I will be bringing to you all the Christmas classics for your late night holiday cravings all December long." Her voice, bright and upbeat jumped with enthusiasm and in anticipation of the season.

"... and as this is our first night together – I'm gonna make sure you guys don't fall asleep behind the reins of your sleigh."

DJ Snowflake didn't have the typical radio personality voice. Perhaps it was for that reason the failing radio company hired her to take over the late night requests. "You could be a late night wanderer, a poor soul in a cabin for the winter, one of Santa's reindeer getting ready for the big run, or – " Her voice perked up with even more excitement. "- a midnight cookie burglar – like me. No matter why you're awake, I'm here to make sure you keep the holiday spirit. Lean back, relax, heat some hot cocoa, and have some cookies as I take you through the rest of the night."

The red light in the sound booth brightened before darkening to shutting off. A finger checked the feed.

_You better watch out_  
><em>You better not cry<em>  
><em>You better not pout<em>  
><em>I'm telling you why<em>

_Santa Claus is Coming to Town _played for what the studio hoped to be hundreds of the listeners at good volume. DJ Snowflake leaned back in her chair and looked over to the control booth, seeking approval from behind the glass. Her "new" boss nodded her head once before turning back to the controls and fiddling with the broadcast. They had known each other for a very long time, but this was their first time working a night shift together. Hopefully this late night Christmas show would last through the season.

"Not bad, DJ Snowflake, but I need you to really sell the season. Our sponsors only agreed to run commercials at the dead of night because I convinced them you could gain listeners and, in turn, gain them new customers. You've got to lure in the late night crew of this backward town if you want to stay on the air."

Snowflake pressed the button down so they could communicate between the booths. "Come on, Holly. It's me. I've got this. I've got more excitement for Christmas in my pinky finger than this whole town combined. You know it's my favorite holiday."

"Hun, I know you've got a real kink for that jolly old man, but you've got to translate that kink into a side hustle or we're gonna be off the air." The song was coming to an end. Holly shrugged her shoulders and pointed to the timer. The red light in the booth flashed in warning.

Britt smoothly entered the feed right as the last notes faded. "Hope you enjoyed that classic and you're getting ready for Santa Claus! Next up is _White Christmas_ and considering where we live, I don't think it's a stretch to say that our Christmas will definitely be full of snow. Now a quick word from our sponsors – Hummel's Bed and Breakfast, a perfect getaway to plan your Winter Wonderland." Their one sponsor was the only "hotel" for twenty miles and located so far off the grid almost no one planned a trip out there…ever.

The commercial was just a pitch Brittany had to recite between every six or seven songs. "It's the only place where you can find peace of mind and celebrate the joy of the season in comfort. Relax and enjoy the holidays without the stress. Hummel's Bed and Breakfast located off Old McKinley Highway just east of the Road-to-Nowhere."

Holly smiled from behind the glass and shot her a thumbs up. She mouthed: "_Good!"_

"Just reminding all the folks out there listening that I am taking requests for your favorite holiday songs. The number here is 1-800-SNOFLAKE. That's spelled S-N-O-F-L-A-K-E. I'll be waiting for your request."

Her voice faded as the next song started.

_I'm dreaming of a white Christmas_  
><em>Just like the ones I used to know.<em>  
><em>Where the treetops glisten<em>  
><em>And children listen<em>  
><em>To hear sleigh bells in the snow.<em>


	2. December 2nd

**DJ Snowflake and Scrooge**

_**December 2**_  
><em>11:37 pm<em>

"Take a left next at the big tree. Follow the road until it isn't a road until it turns back into a road. Old Creek Road becomes Middle Creek Lane, but if it turns into Plum Creek Road then I've gone too far."

"If I get to the end of Plum Creek Road, I better not end up _IN_ Plum Creek! What kind of fucking directions are these?" Santana said out loud with a groan.

"Well-" A voice sleepily responded. "You didn't have to come until tomorrow."

"You said it was a rush."

"I said it was 'a rush, but not a _rush_ rush' and definitely not a 'come in the middle of the night rush."'

"Mercedes, you said you had something for me. That it would get me away. I could work in peace and quiet over the holidays without all the racket. So in my book, that's a rush." Santana made a sharp turn down another road that looked even darker than the last one she had been on. How could it be so dark? Why weren't there any lights or street lamps? It was unnerving even with her high beams on. She squinted out her window and raised her voice so Mercedes would definitely hear her through the speakerphone. "And why the fuck isn't your town even on my GPS? Are you so far removed from civilization that you're living in a commune now?"

"I thought you said communes were a lesbian thing." Mercedes quickly corrected her former college roommate. "And yet…weren't _you_ the one who spent three weeks in the middle of upstate New York because your girlfriend at the time wanted to give subsistence farming a try? And she was trying to make you a vegataria-"

"Alright!" Santana quickly cut her off, but not before she turned a dark shade of red. "There was no need to bring her up. I don't even remember her name-"

"Kyrsten. With a 'y'-" Mercedes easily reminded her. Santana sputtered. "And you made sure to remind us anytime we invited her anywhere. As if it mattered that I spelled it any differently than when I said it."

"She cou-"

"-could tell." Mercedes finished the sentence before Santana. She had heard that line about a thousand times in the two months Santana had dated _Kyrsten_. "I know."

"I thought you said you were tired." Santana tried to change the subject. But an old wooden sign post caught her eyes. "Shit! I think I'm back on Plum Creek Road!"

"That means you went too far! Go back and find the left cut off. It will open to Grange Road."

"Ugh!" Santana spun the wheel of her car obnoxiously with disregard for the rules of the road. There was no one out there anyway. The only thing she was in danger of hitting was a squirrel or a possum. "Cedes, you live in the middle of Bumblefuck and these roads are so stupid."

"As I said before and many times previously, you could have come in the morning…" Mercedes mumbled.

Santana finally saw the left cutout "road" that Mercedes had been talking about. "I found Grange Road or whatever."

"Finally! Now just follow it down about two miles and ask for directions at the gas station about how to get to Main Street in Midtown."

"What?!" Santana glanced to the phone in her hand as if Mercedes could see her. "You were supposed to help me!"

"It's almost midnight, Tana. I've got work. You're in one of your stubborn moods and frankly, I don't think you're gonna make it tonight. You might as well pull off the road, turn off the engine, and find it in the morning with my very accurate directions."

"Hell no! I'm not doing that and I can follow directions. Yours just suck-"

"Or you could do what any normal person would do when they are lost and ask for directions. But if you want to spend the rest of the night driving around and being lost, that's on you. Good night, Santana, and maybe I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"I'll see you to-" The phone beeped to signal Mercedes had hung up. "-night." Santana rolled her eyes. "I'm definitely_not_ asking for directions at some hicktown gas station."

She punched the dial for the radio. Static. She twisted the knob and pressed the scan button for anything. Static. Santana glanced from the dark road to the radio button to make sure she wasn't on AM or some other function. Static. The twisted shapes of leafless trees lined the road and as far as Santana could see, there was certainly no gas station for miles. Mercedes had to be wrong. She twisted the radio dial again.

_-lcome back!_

_That was one of my personal favorites – The Little Drummer Boy._

_You are about to get into another Berry Block on WMHS 97.3 where you'll hear one of the greatest Christmas albums of all time from Midtown's very own Rachel Berry. You are rocking into December with your favorite and only late night Christmas show – DJ Snowflake._

"Oh god no." Santana's fingers fumbled for the dial again. "Anything but a Berry song. It's only December second. Don't they have laws against playing Christmas music this early? People should be arrested. I don't know what people, but definitely some people somewhere should be arrested for playing Christmas songs far too early. No one wants to hear the same three songs played over and over again for the next four weeks."

Some lights up ahead distracted her from tuning the radio station any further. Maybe Mercedes had been right about what street she was on, which meant she certainly didn't need some nasty old man behind a counter ogling at her and telling her which way she should go. Her car whizzed past the gas station without stopping.

Her finger was still hitting the search button for a radio station. The static cleared for a second. Santana tapped it back to the station.

_That was an extra long Berry Block. It's DJ Snowflake and I'm back here to ask you about how you feel about tinsel. It's just weird to say. Like have you said it out loud? Tinsel. Tinnnnnnnssseeelllllll. Now say it super fast. .Tinsel. Tinseltinseltinseltinsel._

"What the fuck?" Santana glanced down at the radio in disbelief. Was this chick high or something?

_- it feels like it's sparkling in your mouth and I just don't know how I feel about. Like where did the word even come from and why don't we use it any other time of the year?_

Where the fuck was she? She was so confused, that she forgot to follow Mercedes's directions.

_If you have any thoughts on tinsel or other Christmas words, call in and talk to me about it. My number is 1-800-SNOFLAKE. I'll be here all night saying the word tinsel and other holiday themed words like figs and figgy pudding._

Santana punched the radio off and looked back up. Why couldn't she have rented a car with bluetooth or even a cd player? This was torture.

Once again, her vision filled with dark trees, brush, and darkness, nothing distinguishable to help get her bearings. She could keep driving, but there was a very real possibility of getting lost even more. Then Mercedes would never let her live it down that she slept on the side of the road because she couldn't follow directions or worse, ask for directions.

"Fuck."

* * *

><p>Ten minutes later Santana pulled her car into the relatively empty lot of the gas station. The glass door stuck and she had to give it an extra hard tug to enter the building. It was a typical gas station full of candy, chips, soda, and with rows of cigarettes behind the counter. Santana didn't know what she had expected, but after spending hours driving down backroads, she felt like civilization should have appeared in the form of a warm bed and place to sleep.<p>

_So I was thinking about other words that we only use around Christmas like-_

The same radio station Santana had been avoiding in the car blared through the loudspeakers at the shop.

A voice called from behind the counter. "Be with you in a minute."

"Look, it's only going to take a second of your time." Santana approached the counter curious as to where the voice was coming from.

"Yeah. Yeah. Sure. Get in line."

"There isn't a line. I'm the only person here." Her annoyance rose at the glib brush off. "I just need some directions."

"Oh! Directions!" A blonde head popped up from beneath the counter with a nail brush dripping in red paint. She was young and if it wasn't the midnight shift, Santana would have questioned if this girl was even out of high school. She smiled as if pleased to see another woman this late at night. "I can help with that."

"I would hope so." Santana rolled her eyes. "I'm trying to get to Midtown."

"Well duh! Where else would you be going?" She waved her hand in the air to try to dry her nails faster. "Coming in for the holidays? You must be visiting. Not a lot of people come out here unless they have family."

"College roommate."

_Plum Pudding. Poinsettia._

The holiday DJ was still talking in the background over the speakers.

_Doesn't poinsettia seem like it could be anything except a flower like –_

"I applied for college, but then I decided I was too good for them so I sent them all rejection letters." The girl said between blowing lightly on her red nails.

"And you decided to become a gas station attendant instead?"

"Well yeah. I get to jam out to music all the time and help strangers." Satisfied that her nails were finally dry, the girl stuck her hand out in a rather perfunctory manner. Santana reluctantly shook hands and offered what she could emotionally spare to smile at her. "It's a pretty cool gig. I'm Sugar."

"Of course you are." Santana released her hand and leaned back from the counter. But when "Sugar" didn't offer anything more than a handshake, her faux smile quickly turned down. "So about those directions?"

"Oh! Right!" Sugar ducked underneath the counter and came back with what appeared to be a bunch of papers all jumbled and thrown together. It wasn't until she flopped them onto the desk and tried to spread them out that it became apparent what it was. "Here ya go!"

A map.

"You're kidding, right?" Santana couldn't believe there were even maps still available or that people were still using them. "This is a joke, right? Can't you just tell me where to go?"

"Oh I could try, but I'm awful with directions. This is soooooo much better. Trust me." The girl's eye brows wiggled as she slid the obnoxiously large crinkled and folded map in Santana's direction. Her other hand snatched a tootsie pop from the display. She had the sucker in her mouth faster than Santana could reach for the antique road map.

"Thanks." Santana slapped a twenty dollar bill on the counter.

It didn't matter how dry Santana's thank you sounded, the girl still smiled around the stem of her lollipop. "Don't mention it." Santana started to walk away from the counter. "Hey! I never got your –" The door to the gas station closed. " – name."

"A map?" Santana started flipping the map around in her hands. She had no idea where she was already. How the hell was she going to find herself on a flipping map? She repressed the urge to yawn and shiver and shout at the same time. "This place is a joke. Whatever Mercedes wanted me to come out for better be worth it."

She slammed the door to her car shut and flipped the ignition on. With the small lights in her rear view mirror, she scoured the map of what she thought had to be her location. She yawned into the back of her gloved hand. Her eyes were scanning hard to find Grange Road, as it was the last road Mercedes had talked about before she had hung up.

How hard could using a map really be?"


	3. December 3rd

**Hey guys! Thanks for the alerts, favs, adds, and of course, the reviews. I just wanted you to know that they will definitely meet each other soon so don't get impatient. We only have 22 days and I want to make sure it's fun and enjoyable. No need to rush! ;) That being said, the chapter lengths will vary and get longer the further we go!**

**Anyway back to your regularly scheduled program…**

* * *

><p><strong>DJ Snowflake and Scrooge<strong>

_**December 3**_  
><em>2:49 am<em>

Tap.  
>Tap.<p>

_Alright getting to the end of my list! Yuletide! Like what does that even mean?_

_Well I'm about to go off the air. Thank you everyone who talked to me about Christmas words. So mostly myself. Good job me! I'll be sending you off with the Christmas classic – Winter Wonderland. You've been jingle bell rocking with DJ Snowflake. Have a good night and a Merry Christmas season!_

_Sleigh bells ring_  
><em>Are you listening?<em>

Tap.

_In the lane_  
><em>Snow is glistening.<em>

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

_A beautiful sight_  
><em>We're happy tonight<em>  
><em>Walking in a winter wonder-<em>

Taptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptap.

" – What!?" Santana jerked forward. The map went flying from her body and covered the dashboard. Her hand pressed forward. The horn in her steering wheel went off. The obnoxious sound bulldozed its way right through her body. Startled would have been an understatement. "Holy fucking shit!"

Her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would pop out of her chest. Where the fuck was she and what had happened? Santana looked around the inside of her car in bewilderment. The map was on the floor, there was ice on the windshield, and her car was still running.

_In the meadow we can build a snowman_

Santana slammed the radio button off and looked out her window to see where she was.

"Fuck!" She jumped a second time – so hard her seat belt caught and jerked her back into her seat.

If the first time was bad, Santana had no doubt her heart had literally stopped. Standing outside her car and peering into the window was that Sugar chick from the gas station. The lollipop in her mouth had been replaced by a halfway sucked on candy cane. Her nails were now completely finished, red, and popping against the darkness of the early morning.

What the fuck did she want now? To give her a compass to use instead of this fucking map?

Santana was still shaking as she reached for the button to roll down the window. It was frigid outside and the coldness quickly invaded the cabin of her car.

"You know –" The candy cane popped out of Sugar's mouth. "- you can't park and sleep here. If you wanted a blanket, I could have sold you one. That map doesn't look very warm. Besides that, you definitely can't stay here all night long with your car on. I mean I'm not an expert, but that seems like a really fast way to kill the battery."

"I must have fallen asleep."

"Duh." Sugar glanced around the inside of Santana's car. Her eyes fell on the abused map discarded on the passenger's seat and the floor. She kinda liked it better when the woman had been using it like a blanket. She had snapped a pic to a few of her friends.

Santana turned her car off and then turned it back on just to make sure it really wouldn't die. Luckily, the engine sounded fine – not that she would know. Cars weren't exactly her thing. Stupid. That had been stupid. This wasn't even her car. She couldn't even imagine the lies she would have to tell the car rental place to explain a dead battery. Maybe Mercedes was right and she should have waited to come in during the day.

Not that she would ever – _ever _tell Mercedes that.

"Sooooo I kinda can't let you stay here. My boss would kill me, but if you want…you could follow me into town. My shift is over and I'm ready to sleep."

"Wait. I can follow you into town?"

"Well yeah. I mean unless you're a serial killer then you can stay here and wait for my boss. She'd probably kick your ass though. You don't seem like a very capable killer."

"Yes! Thank you!" Santana glanced down at her meter. "Yes, I mean I'll definitely follow you into town and no, I'm not a serial killer. Just let me fill up and I'll be right there."

"Sure! Whatevs. I'll be waiting." Sugar peered into the backseat of Santana's vehicle to make sure there wasn't a dead body or anything. She had been worked at the gas station long enough to know anything was possible when working a night shift. Needless to say, it wouldn't be the first time.

"Um, Sugar?" Santana threw the name out like a question.

"Yeah?"

"Are there any other radio stations in range besides this Christmas one?"

Maybe it was a dumb question, but whatever the reason, it made Sugar smile brighter. "Nope. That's the only one around! WMHS 97.3 just started its 24/7 Christmas run. They probably won't stop until sometime during January or if the company folds and shuts down. I've heard rumors."

Santana didn't care about the rumors. The sooner the radio station "shut down" the less Christmas music she'd have to suffer through. "I've noticed. It's only like two days into December. There isn't anything else to listen to?"

"Technically it's three days." Sugar glanced to the clock to emphasize her point. "And nope! DJ Snowflake plays all night." Santana grumbled something about the holidays and Christmas, but Sugar didn't hear it. She was busy glancing at her phone and catching up with her social media. "So just flash your headlights when you're ready to get out of here."

Santana quickly filled her tank and positioned herself behind Sugar's car. The girl didn't even wait for Santana to flash her lights before she took off.

It took another ten minutes of driving before light posts and signs began to populate the road. A sign on the right caught Santana's attention immediately.

_Welcome to Midtown!_

_Located in the Middle of Nowhere_

Santana groaned. Seriously? That was what this town was known – or she guessed not known for? The town was small. It had a few main roads and store fronts decorated in lights. There were Santas on the roofs, wreaths hanging from doors, and strings of lights in windows. The town glistened in the soft glow of incandescent lighting, but since it was still very early in the morning, the town was quiet. Sugar turned down another street, but Santana kept driving through Main Street. She returned the younger woman's enthusiastic wave as a way of thanking her for bringing her safely into town. Santana pulled out Mercedes directions and followed them until she pulled into a cute little townhouse. Like the rest of Midtown, it was already decorated and dressed for the Christmas season.

Santana parked and pulled out a small suitcase.

She rang the doorbell with passion. She didn't care who else lived in the house or if the neighbors could hear. After several seconds of jamming her finger on the doorbell, Santana could hear the locks and the sound of the door turning.

Mercedes stood inside wearing a warm looking robe, slippers, and "an expression". It was hard to tell if she was more amused Santana had actually arrived or annoyed at the early morning wake up. But despite her groggy and sluggish morning face, Mercedes smiled pleasantly. "Oh good, Santana, you made it! I knew you could do it."

"Fuck you, Mercedes."


	4. December 4th

**DJ Snowflake and Scrooge**

_**December 4**_  
><em> 8:45 am<em>

_You're waking up with WMHS 97.3. And if you're not awake, get your lazy *beep* up. You only have one chance to start the day right and you probably missed it._

Santana groaned and glanced down to the radio. She definitely did not start the day right. She had been following Mercedes's car for the past twenty minutes. They had driven straight through the heart of Midtown and turned onto a road Santana hadn't noticed when she had first arrived. It was a good thing she was following Mercedes this time instead of following her directions because it was way too early in the morning to repeat those shenanigans. After the initial greetings and hugs, Mercedes had offered Santana the couch for the night. But somehow she ended up spending the night in the same bed as Mercedes and her boyfriend. The next day, Mercedes insisted Santana take some time to relax and see the town.

A very short stroll around the block had been all Santana needed. She was greeted by at least a dozen different people with smiles and waves. Children ran up and down sidewalks to catch the bus and there were quite a few adults stringing lights over their shrubbery. This morning, instead of taking Mercedes's prescribed morning walk, Santana had demanded Mercedes reveal why she was so keen on having Santana come to town.

The radio cut into her concentration.

_I'd say it's time for traffic, but there is none. Now a word from myself, because I'm the only sponsor worth getting a spot –_

Santana didn't know if this woman was any better than DJ Snowflake, but at least she hadn't played a Rachel Berry song yet. In fact, Santana didn't know if this morning radio host had played any songs at all.

_This has been another segment of Sue's Serious Doubt. As I seriously doubt any of you really care about the local sports teams, but here's a rundown of the latest disappointments, failures, and disgraced coaches._

Honestly, anything was better than DJ Snowflake. Mercedes's boyfriend, Sigmund or Sara or Simon or whatever his name was, had insisted that he couldn't sleep at night without something playing. Santana didn't know what was worse between the non-stop Christmas music or DJ Snowflake's never ending commentary on the history of elf fashion. Needless to say, Santana was grateful to hear any voice that didn't belong to DJ Snowflake.

Santana glanced to the clock in the rental car again.

_8:53_

She needed coffee.

Mercedes turned left at a sign.

_Hummel's Bed and Breakfast_

Something about the sign or the name seemed familiar, but Santana couldn't quite place it. Without coffee, Santana really didn't care. She parked her rental car next to Mercedes's SUV and threw her best friend a skeptical glance. The bed and breakfast had windows with scroll work, ivy that had been attached to the walls for decades, and the type of charm Santana usually avoided.

"Now before we go in." Mercedes hooked her arm into Santana's to slow down the other woman's determined march to the door. "Please remember this is my friend Kurt's business, and if you don't want to do me the favor of helping him, just say so and it will be totally fine. He and his father, Burt, know you are doing this as a favor so they aren't expecting anything. You're kinda their last desperate chance at keeping their Bed and Breakfast going. So try and be nice?"

"Be nice?" Santana rolled her eyes. "I'm always nice. But are they seriously named Kurt and Burt?"

Mercedes tilted her head back and sucked on her bottom lip as if praying for divine intervention to grant Santana an ounce of extra patience for the next hours. She muttered under her breath. "Of all the things I just said. That's what you're concerned about?"

Santana continued with a nonchalant shrug. "What? They sound like they could be muppets. You still haven't told me why you deprived me of coffee and took me out into the middle of – nowhere. If you wanted some alone time, you could have asked. You didn't have to bring me out to a bed and breakfast."

"Santana, only your ego would make you think I wanted anymore special alone time with you. I had enough of that when we shared a room for three years at university. Look –" Mercedes pulled Santana back so they could talk candidly before entering Hummel's Bed and Breakfast. "- Kurt has been my friend forever and their family has owned this Bed and Breakfast back before there was even a town, but since the new freeway was put in, hardly any traffic comes this way. The whole town has been suffering."

Santana ducked her head just a little when she realized Mercedes was earnestly asking for help. "And I can help how?"

"Ever since the new mayor was elected, he's been pressuring all of us working at the town hall to find ways to boost tourism. It hasn't been easy – there is almost nothing to draw _anyone_ this far off the grid when we aren't even a location on their GPS or findable on google maps." Mercedes touched the very old door handle of the Bed and Breakfast. It was old cast iron and Santana imagined it was one of a kind. "The only thing we have to offer is a bit of history."

_History._

And now it was starting to make sense.

"Kurt mentioned that Hummel's had been around forever and you mentioned that you needed something to do this winter with your paid time off while renovations were being done at your archives."

Santana puffed out her cheeks in exasperation. She had been nearly frantic when her boss said they were going to shut down the archives to work on the ventilation system during December. Her co-workers had families and vacations they planned to take over the interim. But she had intended to work through December.

Mercedes had to listen to Santana moan over the phone during Thanksgiving and then through the weekend about how she had nowhere to work for the next few weeks.

"You get some old musty documents to sort through and the vacation your boss wanted you to take all at the same time."

Santana scrunched her nose against the cold air in thought, but she couldn't find one reason this wasn't the perfect arrangement. Mercedes must have read her mind because she flashed Santana a self-satisfied smirk before opening the door.

Candles, wood, and the smell of cloves escaped the old door. Instant warmth and comfort wrapped around her body and instantly dispelled the lingering cold air from standing outside for so long.

"Mercedes!" A big voice from the inside boomed out. An older man came through the foyer with his arms outstretched for a big hug. Santana kept back and took in the bed and breakfast. It looked like it had been converted from an old inn. All the furniture was made of sturdy wood and polished. Stings of snowflakes roped through the banister of the stairs. There was a small greeting area with a sign-in book for guests. It was a place Santana thought only existed in the movies. The bald headed man continued embracing Mercedes and asking her questions. "How are you? How's the family?" Until he finally noticed the woman Mercedes had brought with her. "Is this your friend? I didn't expect you so soon!"

He released Mercedes. Santana held out her hand, but found herself locked in a bear hug similar to the one he had just given Mercedes. "Welcome to Hummel's Bed and Breakfast!"

Santana pulled back and half-glanced to Mercedes. "Thanks."

"My boy is going to be so excited. It's been a few weeks since we had a guest and he's been preparing your room since Mercedes mentioned that you could be coming."

"My room?" Santana asked.

"Yes! We've set you up with the master suite and it just so happens to be the room with the most history in it." Burt wiggled his brows and pulled back to search for Kurt.

Santana glanced to Mercedes and mouthed _what?_

Her best friend shrugged. "Did you really think I was going to share my bed with Sam _and_ you for a week?"

Sam! That was his name.

"No." Santana rolled her eyes. "I thought you were going to kick him out and make him sleep on the couch."

Mercedes chose not to respond to Santana's suggestion for sleeping arrangements. "Actually, Burt offered to put you up for as long as you wanted. I know how you like to pretend you're one of those moody lesbian vampires that only functions at night so I thought this would be perfect."

"It was the least we could do." Burt took a step on the landing. "Kurt!" He shouted up, but another door opened in the parlor to a bright smiling young man. He greeted Mercedes in the same manner as his dad, but instead of giving Santana a big hug, he stood back a step as if to assess her.

"So you're the infamous Santana I've heard so much about from Mercedes."

"I am-" Santana proudly lifted her head to meet his rather obvious assessment of her character. It was the first time someone in this town hadn't greeted her with open arms and a Christmas greeting. "

"From everything I've heard about you, I wasn't sure if you were even real or just one long fictitious story Mercedes had made up about her university days." Kurt eyed her up and down. "Still not sure."

"Behave." Mercedes jokingly warned.

Burt threw him a set of keys from behind the desk. Kurt clapped his hands excitedly. "Always! I was just saying I never in a million years thought you would ever show! Good thing I just made up the master suite. You can follow me up."

Santana hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. One friendly shove from Mercedes sent her following Kurt up the stairs.

"You can back out now."

"Back out? They have a room for me and this place is deserted. I can set up an office and have some time to myself. I'm sure I can find something significant to help fill out whatever bullshit paperwork the state requires." Santana glanced around. "And then I can work on my own projects."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. How bad could it be?"

"You missed breakfast, but we'll be serving lunch in the parlor at 12:30."

"Sounds good." Santana answered Kurt before continuing to whisper to Mercedes. "And there's food. How bad could this be?" She repeated the question as if convincing herself that this set-up wasn't too good to be true. She turned back to their guide. "So, Kurt, there has to be a lot of old buildings in this area. What makes this place so special?"

Kurt stopped walking. They were at the end of the long hallway and inserted a worn gold key into the lock. He smiled as he turned the key and pushed open the door. It was a large room with heavy wooden furniture, deep colored décor, and a strange sense of importance. There was an antique record player next to a floral sofa and an old radio next to the bed. Santana stepped into the room. Portraits hung around the room and above the mantle. Every portrait had been painted by a different hand, but the subject never changed.

"The master suite, your room is dedicated to the most famous person to ever come from Midtown. Even after she moved to the big city in the 50s, she used to rent a room here during the winter. So we just started collecting things and adding it to honor her legacy. She's an inspiration for anyone trying to make it big from a small town." Kurt's voice filled with admiration for the singer. Santana's eyes widened. "And we're hoping she's the connection you can make to put Hummel's on the map. A little destination tour for the weekend for all of her fans particularly during the Christmas season."

Santana's mouth dropped. She wasn't sure if from shock or horror. Clearly delighted by Santana's expression, he lifted his hands with gusto and pronounced.

"Welcome to the Rachel Barbra Berry Room."


	5. December 5th

**DJ Snowflake and Scrooge**

_**December 5**_  
><em>10:29 pm<em>

_Silver bells silver bells_  
><em>It's Christmas time in the city<em>  
><em>Ring-a-ling hear them ring<em>  
><em>Soon it will be Christmas day<em>

_Santa make him hurry, tell him he can take the freeway down_  
><em>Run, run Rudolph 'cause I'm reeling like a merry-go-round<em>

_Have a holly jolly Christmas_  
><em>And in case you didn't hear<em>  
><em>Oh, by golly!<em>  
><em>Have a holly jolly Christmas this year!<em>

"It's now five days into December and I've already been feeling the pressure to buy the perfect gifts for Christmas. Good thing I called Hummel's Bed and Breakfast for their two-for-one Double Down Special. That's double the down in every pillow in every room available at Hummel's. Let Kurt take care of all your head's needs." Britt paused at the last part of the advertisement. She squinted at the words and then looked up to Holly. She mouthed. _Is this right?_ Holly nodded vigorously with a smirk on her face. "All your head's needs…" Brittany repeated the last part in wonderment. It was probably a good thing not too many people listened to the radio this late at night or who knows what kind of customers this Hummel guy would be expecting.

"In case you forgot or you're just tuning into the broadcast, my name is DJ Snowflake and I'm here taking your requests at all hours of the night to make sure you have the best holiday season possible. Feel free to call the line. The number is 1-800-SNOFLAKE. That's spelled S-N-O-F-L-A-K-E. Here's The Beach Boys singing about the greatest man of all time. You know him. You love him."

The light in the sound booth switched.

"You've got to be kidding me about these radio spots for that Hummel's place, Holly."

"I don't know what to tell you, Britt, they wanted to run the ad at night. At the moment, they are the ones single handedly paying your check."

"You could put me back on the morning show."

Holly chuckled. "I'm never making that mistake again, hun. You know how many complaints I got from people about how chipper Little Miss Sunshine was in the morning? I think we're the only morning show in the United States that was _too_ awake in the morning."

"I just really like saying good morning to everyone…" Brittany pouted.

"I know you do, but since there's almost no one listening at night, you can be as loud and wake up as many people as you want." Holly smiled apologetically. "Sorry, Snowflake, you're staying on night duty."

The light flicked back on. Brittany made direct eye with Holly. "This next song goes out to all my morning people who are sitting in quiet houses or driving in quiet cars. Send me your requests now to get your song played."

_Silent night, holy night_  
><em>All is calm, all is bright<em>

"See? I can be totally chill for the morning show."

Holly rolled her eyes at Brittany's song selection. "I already apologized, Brittany. There isn't much else I can do."

"It's fine, Holls. I just wish there was more interaction." Brittany kicked her feet out and spun around on her chair in a circle. "It's been five days since we started doing this and I've gotten zero requests. Not one person has called in. Are you sure anyone's even listening?"

"We know the Hummel's are because they called to confirm they wanted to run the Christmas Night Show up until Christmas Eve."

"Seriously? Have they gotten any business from these ads?" She lifted the cue cards in her hand to remind Holly of how Mr. Hummel was offering to _take care of heads_.

"Brittany, when life gives you lemons, you trade those lemons to someone to take advantage of the barter system and you keep trading until you find something you can sell for cash! You don't ask questions. He sent the money and I said thank you, Mr. Hummel, we can't wait to visit your Bed and Breakfast as soon as we can!"

"Cool! He's setting us up at the B&B?"

Holly didn't answer Brittany. She stared at the light blinking on her control panel. For a moment, she forgot what that light meant. It had been awhile since it had flickered to life. "Brittany! I think we've got a caller! Want me to screen'em?"

Brittany glanced to the counter and waved Holly off. "No! Patch them through! This will be my first request!"

"Yeah just make sure you don't say that on the air. I don't want the Hummel's to hear that and rethink their sponsorship."

Holly hit a few buttons and then gave Brittany three fingers in the air. Perfectly in time, her fingers dropped with the song. On the final second, she pointed to Brittany. The red light flashed in the sound booth and Brittany instantly transformed.

"Listener! You're on WMHS 97.3 with DJ Snowflake. Who am I talking to?"

"It doesn't matter who I am, but I'm calling about the requests."

At first, Brittany had been taken aback by the abrasive way the woman on the other side of the line dismissed her good natured inquiry. But at the mention of a request, Brittany easily overlooked the slight. "Great! It's our first request of the night! What can DJ Snowflake play for you on this long cold December night?"

"Stop playing Christmas songs."

"Right I'll play that nex-" The word caught in Brittany's throat. Stop playing Christmas music? What? "I'm sorry but you want me to do what?"

"It's easy. I just want to hear one song that doesn't have reindeer or elves or talk about how big Santa Claus is. So seriously play anything except Christmas songs."

Brittany stuttered. Rare were the times when she had nothing to say. That was one of the reasons she had proven to be such a good radio personality. She always had a thousand things on her mind and never lacked for conversation starters and points. But not play Christmas songs? It didn't make sense. Britt scrambled for an appropriate response.

"Did you hear me? Play the chicken dance song for all I care, but no more Christmas."

"I-um-"

Holly was shaking her head and giving her the cut off signal.

"You said your listeners could request anything. Well, I am requesting anything that isn't Christmas."

Britt floundered. Holly's hand was slicing the air in front of her throat and growing more violent by the second. Brittany could easily read the words _Cut Her Off _behind the glass. Panicked, DJ Snowflake blurted the first thing that came to mind. "Oh! Another caller on the line!"

The call dropped as Britt hung up on the woman. She flipped on _Here Comes Santa Claus_ for the listeners and guiltily glanced to Holly. Instead of reprimanding her, Holly sported a smirk of amusement. "Smooth. Real smooth, DJ Snowflake."

The blonde flushed in embarrassment. "I panicked."

"Um." Holly nodded vigorously. "Yeah you did. I've never seen you rattled like that."

"I don't know what happened! Who doesn't want to hear Christmas music in December? Just tell me you have another caller so I'm not on the naughty list for lying."

"Britt, that was our first caller –" Brittany's hopeful eyes didn't diminish. Holly emphasized. "- _ever_. Do you really think I've got another one?"

"Jingle Bells!" Britt mildly cursed. "I messed that one up didn't I?"

"Hun, we're gonna be lucky if someone accidentally dials the wrong number for the pizza shop and calls us."

"That's what I thought."


	6. December 6th

**DJ Snowflake and Scrooge**

_**December 6**_  
><em>10:11 am<em>

Santana stared at the hands of the clock on the nightstand with disdain.

She had never been accused of being a morning person. In fact, it was well-known that Santana should never be approached before her coffee and certainly not before nine am. Somehow this morning was much worse. She had spent the entire night tossing and turning in bed and despite the softness of the mattress and the seemingly endless supply of pillows, she couldn't find a comfortable position.

Not only had she spent the night in a perpetual state of motion, but she had very consciously aware the dozens of Rachel Berrys staring down at her from the portraits on the walls.

When she had turned the radio on to try to take her mind off the portraits of Rachel, she had been bombarded by the never-ending Christmas song playlist. Needless to say, her night had been awful and she wasn't looking forward doing or accomplishing anything for the rest of the day.

She checked her cell phone – no messages, no texts, no anything. With nothing to stop her from officially waking up, Santana got out of bed and started for the shower.

A knock at the door stopped her from entering the bathroom.

Santana questioned. "Yes?"

"Just checking up on you. Can I come in? I didn't see you come down for breakfast and I wanted to know if you needed anything."

Kurt. Right.

"Yeah sure. You can come in." Kurt poked his head through the door with a dazzling smile and a tray in his hand. Clearly he had slept in a room without a hundred Rachel Berrys because he seemed as cheerful as he did yesterday.

Kurt placed the tray of breakfast foods on the nightstand next to her bed. "Well I brought you some breakfast just in case you were hungry. And I wanted to know if I could get you anything else."

"No. I'm fine. Thanks." Santana shook her head, but she eyed the steaming cup of coffee on the tray.

"Well I know you're probably eager to start digging through all the Rachel Berry stuff we have." Kurt smiled. "And there's a lot."

"I can see that." Santana humored his excitement and glanced around the room. The Berry portraits, the signed autographed picture in the gold trimmed frame on the mantle, the Rachel Berry: The Berry Best Christmas album strategically placed next to the record player, and of course the small gold plaque on the base of the bed frame that read: _The Rachel Barbra Berry Suite._

"Oh." Kurt laughed into the back of his hand trying to stifle some of his amusement. "This is just the suite collection. We have so – _so – _much more."

"You have more?" Santana couldn't hold the disbelief back in her voice.

The excitement in Kurt's eyes frightened her more than his answer. He kept nodding his head and Santana could almost hear him counting off a list in his head.

"How much more could you possibly fucking have?" Santana muttered under her voice and immediately went for the coffee on the tray.

* * *

><p><em>Now for a list of municipalities that will still be open through the Christmas holiday: snow removal, waste collection, and the water authority. The sheriff's department might be open. Please call ahead to schedule an emergency.<em>

Sue pressed her lips to the mic and ran her finger meticulously through every line as if striking her nail through the words on the paper would produce the same effect in real life. Her eyes were too focused on her list to realize she had an observer. Brittany pressed her nose against the glass and sighed.

"You know, I'm not paying you for any extra time you spend at the studio, right?" Holly half-jokingly asked her.

"I know." Brittany's words fogged the glass before they faded like her dreams to once again be on the morning show.

"Then stop looking like a sad puppy in my studio. You've got a fabulous pout, but it's not good enough to overturn the town's ordinance against Miss Sunshine in the morning." Holly good-naturedly teased. It had been over a year since Brittany had introduced herself on the morning show. She had been so excited and awake in the morning that a few of Midtown's citizens took action to get her taken off the air – immediately.

The loudest of the complaints had come directly from Sue Slyverster – the same Sue now running the morning show.

"How do I get back in here, Holls?"

Holly shrugged. There was no easy answer. "Well you definitely can't freeze and purposely hang up on our only caller of the night."

"Sorry bout that." Brittany hung her head. "It's just who doesn't want to hear Christmas music on a Christmas show?"

"No worries, babe, it happens to everyone." Holly wrapped an arm around Brittany's shoulders with a friendly embrace of commiseration and pulled her in. "Just be yourself, girl. Get some more sponsors. Be so exciting that people will demand to hear you all the time instead of just late at night."

"I can do that." Brittany looked back in on Sue. She repeated it again until the words once more fogged over the glass. "I can do that."

* * *

><p>11:23am<p>

_Ring._  
><em>Ring.<em>

Santana puffed out a sigh of exasperation and looked around. She sat in the center of The Rachel Barbra Berry Master Suite surrounded by smiling facsimiles of the famous singer's face. In every single image, Berry had the same smile and her head tilted in the exact same way. For the past hour hours, Santana had already learned to not make direct eye contact with any of the pictures or album art covers. Their eyes followed her around the room and Santana feared she could be in serious danger of possession by the late singer.

How did her life come to this?

She picked up one of the three original Rachel Berry Christmas albums, this one from 1953. Each of them had been signed by the singer and kept in pristine condition. She began to realize how much actual merchandise had been made with Berry's likeness and name on it.

_Ring._  
><em>Ring.<em>

A knock at the door pulled her away from any more thoughts.

"Santana?" Like the eight or so times before, Kurt popped his head into the doorway.

"Yeah. Come in. I was just –" Santana noticed he was holding yet another box. It would be the ninth time he had come with a Berry box. "-going through the last box you brought in."

"Oh great! Well this is stuff from her stay in 1962. I thought maybe you'd be interested in looking through it. I'm pretty sure she signed the guest book and left her number for my great-great grandfather."

"Grrrreeat." She elongated the word with an overtly insincere smile. Kurt looked back at her unsure if she was really excited or just mocking his use of the word great. But it was hard to tell as Santana glanced down at the boxes she still had to sort through.

_Ring._  
><em>Ring.<em>

Kurt placed the box down with care next to the sofa and glanced to Santana's nightstand.

"Your phone's ringing."

Confused, Santana pulled her cell phone from her pocket. "No. It's right here."

Kurt shook his head. "No, your room phone."

"That thing?" Santana turned to the strange object on the night stand. "You mean that's a phone? I thought it was a prop and it just rang on a timer or something to give the room an effect."

"Oh it works!" Kurt rushed over to pick up the receiver and held it out for her to take.

"Hello?"

"Santana!"

"Mercedes?"

"Yes, it's me! I've been trying to call you for the last two hours, but your cell kept bouncing me to voicemail and every time Burt patched me through to your room, you never picked up."

"I never got your call." Santana checked her cellphone, but there were no missed calls. "I don't think I get service here."

"Well whatever. I just wanted to know how it was going."

Santana made eyes with Kurt, unsure if he could hear Mercedes or not. She flashed him a big smile and spoke through her gritted teeth. "Great. It's going great. There's so much _stuff _here."

Mercedes paused. She had known Santana for far too long to recognize the sound of her friend's distress.

"That good, huh?"

Kurt was still smiling at her. "Yup."

"You wanna get a coffee?"

"Yes. Please."

"Do you think you can find your way back to town? I work at the town hall. You can't miss it."

"Are you going to give me more bullshit directions?"

Mercedes barked in laughter. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

Santana handed the receiver back to Kurt who hooked it into place. "So I'm going to meet Mercedes in town for a bit, but when I come back, I'll sort right through these boxes."

"Great! Have fun! Do you need directions to get back into town?"

Santana hesitated for a second, but obstinately answer. "No, I'll be fine."

* * *

><p>Santana only got lost twice on the way into town, but she had refused to call Mercedes even once for directions. The town was busy and full of people walking up and down Main Street with bags in their hands. There were posters for Breakfast with Santa, the Annual Tree Lighting, and an album release all over the shop windows. After a few minutes, she located parking and walked down the sidewalk determined to make it to the town hall without having to give a dollar to a local charity or receive a flyer.<p>

As she approached the town hall building, she noticed there were no lights or anything to indicate that it was even open. She yanked on the handles of the town hall door. It was locked.

"What the fuck?" Santana pressed her nose to the glass to see if Mercedes was waiting for her, but everything was dark. She knocked on the glass. "Mercedes?"

"Santana!" Mercedes called from around the building.

"Why's everything locked?"

"They're out to lunch. Come on. I need to get my purse and then we can go."

Santana tucked her arms into her body and hurried to the side entrance. "It's freezing."

Santana followed Mercedes into the side entrance to the building, but instead of walking into something like a state or federal government building, the town hall was more like a very old building that had some renovation work done and name plaques attached to each room to make them seem more like an office space. Plaques and portraits with former town hall members and staff hung on the walls. Mercedes's heels clicked against the polished wood floors accompanied by the sound of Santana's heeled boots. Yet the only other noise Santana could hear was the muffled broadcast of the radio from one of the offices. Mercedes led her down the hallway.

"So does everyone here take lunch at the same time?"

"They are all getting a bite to eat at the diner down the block."

"And you're not?"

"I wanted to check up on you." Mercedes tried not to let Santana know she was smiling. "What you're doing for Kurt and Burt is really nice and I appreciate that you're going to at least look into some of the history at their place."

"It's whatever. I just wish they wouldn't blast the radio through every room and ask if I need more hot chocolate every thirty minutes."

"They're excited."

"I noticed."

"You know…it wouldn't kill you to try and enjoy at least some of the Hummel's excitement or even enjoy Christmas in general, Santana."

"All that garland? I could be allergic."

"You seem to have a long list of allergies around the holidays." Mercedes didn't pursue her comment about the holidays. Instead she focused back to the reason she had brought Santana into town. "How's it going?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. They have so much stuff. Kurt was still bringing me boxes of things touched by the _Great Rachel Berry_ when you called. I don't even know where to start."

Mercedes pursed her lips together and nodded. It wasn't the answer she was hoping for, but it was the one she expected. "Hopefully, you can turn something up. Alright, let me grab my purse and then we can head to the coffee shop." Mercedes unlocked another door leading to a staircase.

"Where do you work? The dungeons?" Santana grasped onto the handrail going down the stairs to the basement level of the town hall.

"No, my office is back upstairs at the other end of the hallway. I left my purse down here because I was checking on some property records."

"Thrilling. I always knew you'd have a life of excitement in local government."

"Says the girl who spends all of her time in archives."

"I don't technically spend all that time _in _the archives, Mercedes."

"Spin it anyway you want, girl."

Santana smirked, but had nothing to say. Mercedes accepted Santana's silence as defeat before she opened the doors to the basement. It was filled with rows and rows of stacked boxes on old metal shelves. There were a few desks plastered with current paperwork and a station for card catalogs.

"What is this?" Santana asked with curiosity.

"Town records." Mercedes feigned disinterest, but she waited until Santana walked toward one of the unlidded boxes before she walked over to a desk to grab her purse.

"This box has census records from 1903."

"Does it?" Mercedes shrugged, but she turned around with a smile on her face.

"Are these indexed somewhere?"

"I don't think so. No budget to do that. I think we use the good old filing system of memory. The one woman who works down here knows where everything is."

"Seriously?" Santana closed the lid on the box and looked around the basement with new eyes. "You guys have no idea what's down here?"

"Is that a problem?"

"Do you have internet?"

"Yeah, we have computers in the offices upstairs and we even have wifi, although I don't think it makes it down here."

"It's just there could be something on the Hummel's place here."

"If it would help, you could come down here any time you want. I'd even let you use my computer." Mercedes offered.

"What?"

"Here. You can have my spare key. We don't really have security. I'll just make sure the rest of the staff knows you're here working for me." Mercedes passed Santana a key ring.

"You're really pushing it right now. With the directions, bed and breakfast and the key to the town records with access to your computer. I'm not dumb. I know what you're doing." Santana took the key, but not without a skeptical eye. "You planned this didn't you?"

"And what am I doing?" Mercedes lifted an eyebrow and dared Santana to say something – anything that wouldn't sound like Mercedes was just being a good friend. After a moment's pause, Mercedes shouldered her purse and started for the door. Her satisfied smirk only grew larger as she walked past her best friend and dismissively waved her hand in the air. "I just wanted coffee."


	7. December 7th

**DJ Snowflake and Scrooge**

_**December 7**_  
><em> 12:09 am<em>

"Just because I call you in for a favor doesn't mean you have to work the midnight shift and make yourself a martyr." Mercedes stood at the door of the Town Records tapping her foot. The last time Santana had seen her friend, she had been dressed in a business jacket and skirt. Tonight, Mercedes's outfit was vastly different. Santana had a feeling her friend's visit to town hall had been unscheduled. Mercedes wore the same robe, slippers, and expression she had the first night Santana had arrived.

Santana looked her up and down with a crooked smirk. "Looking for a better bed partner? I told you trouty mouth would never measure up to me."

"I told you to stop calling him that. His ears might be smaller than his mouth, but he can still hear you." Mercedes's mouth did reveal the faintest hint of amusement at the nickname Santana had given her boyfriend. She supposed it was better than Santana continuing to call him Sara or Seth or whatever "S" name came to mind. "And no, I got a call about a possible robbery taking place at town hall."

"And so someone called you and not the cops?" Santana teased. "Is your town even big enough to have cops or is it a volunteer type thing?"

"Yes we have police." Mercedes tapped her foot as if waiting for Santana to stop her glib questions before answering. Her eyes settled over the scattered paperwork Santana had pulled out and she shook her head softly. Sure she had expected Santana to jump at the chance for some work, but Mercedes hadn't expected her plan to work out quite this well – or this late at night. "You don't have to work here in the middle of the night? You're invited to come when there's sun and people and normal work hours."

"It's fine. It's no big deal." Santana looked around the dusty old storeroom. "I prefer working the midnight shift. I don't have to share a table with whatever nasty old mummies you've got working here during the day."

"They aren't mummies."

"They're probably as old as some of these documents."

"Doris is very nice and she only just turned eighty-eight."

"Eighty-eight?" Santana rolled her eyes and flipped over some paperwork that Doris must have been working on. It had brocade patterns and mentioned needlepoint work. "You're right. She's definitely not a mummy. I can't wait to share a table, talk about quilting, and exchange shoofly pie recipes."

"Well she doesn't like to share and she's an avid bow hunter so I don't think you'll get a lot of quilting tips from her. And for your information, this is the wrong part of the state for shoofly pie."

"Whatever." Santana waved off Mercedes.

"Santana…"

"What?" Santana shrugged.

Mercedes's brow only darkened. It was an expression Santana recognized from years of friendship. Mercedes wanted a real answer and she wasn't going to leave until she got one. Santana rolled her eyes when she realized she wasn't going to shrug her way out of Mercedes's stare.

"Fine. I had a hard time falling asleep with all those Rachel Berry paintings staring at me. You know how dolls creep me out. This is a thousand times worse."

"Seriously?" The look on Santana's face must have been believable enough because Mercedes sighed. "Fine, but just remember to turn the lights off, okay?" Mercedes narrowed her expression once more, unsure if she believed Santana completely, but it was late and she had work in the morning. "Here." Mercedes reached over and hit the power switch for the radio on Doris's desk.

_I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus_  
><em> Underneath the mistletoe last night<em>

"Don't stay up all night."

"I won't, _mom_."

* * *

><p><em>2:31 am<em>

She didn't plan to spend all night at the town hall, but it was easy to get caught up with the sheer amount of information and unsorted papers. She certainly didn't plan to drive back to the bed and breakfast this late at night. Santana stifled a yawn into the back of her glove and blinked hard as she tried to stay awake.

_Welcome back after another long set of Holiday Classics. You're jamming with Santa's favorite late night disc jockey, DJ Snowflake, on the only station bringing you all the hits from-_

Santana slammed the radio button over and over again. Her fingers flipped through the stations with little regard for the way the buttons stuck and strained against the hurried pace. After thumbing through all of the reprogrammed stations on the dashboard, Santana took the dial and spun it in circles trying to find one station - _any _station that wasn't playing Christmas music. But after the tenth go around, the search proved fruitless. The best she had come to finding an alternative to the non-stop Christmas music was a Christian militant group broadcasting music and where the best deals for firearms were this holiday season. It took her about five minutes before she desperately changed the dial back to WMHS 97.3.

_And now, one of my favorites, and I think it's one of yours. Santa Baby._

If she heard Santa Baby one more time, she'd probably run the rental car off the road. Tempted, she glanced around. No one. It had been empty for miles and miles. The last time she had seen a car had been during her commute in the middle of the day. It had been a tri-axle. The woman driving looked like she could have been a logger. Needless to say, not many people drove these backroads; not that she blamed them. They were icy and full of snow. She had yet to see a house and she was certain this particular area of the country had been used in Hollywood movies for the past forty years as the quintessential set to film the icy, creepy, death scenes.

With so many reasons to be worried about driving at night on these back roads, one would think there would at least be a decent radio station, but no. Santana's finger jammed the button over and over again. But no matter how hard or how many times she hit it, the song never changed. Unfortunately, she couldn't listen to music from her phone because like the bed and breakfast, she had discovered she had limited service. At the moment, her phone made a better paper weight. The only thing she had to keep her awake was DJ Snowflake's enthusiasm for the whole Christmas season. Personally, Santana would have gladly forgone the radio if she wasn't in peril of falling asleep. She had gotten distracted at the town hall archives, well if one could even call it that. An archives would imply some semblance of organization for the preservation of documents. This records room was a freeforall of paper, books, and ledgers. Santana had spent most of the night flipping through boxes and boxes of documents and had got nowhere.

_And now, one of my favorites, and I think it's one of yours – Santa Baby._

"What the fuck?" Santana said aloud and glanced at the time on the clock.

She could have sworn DJ Snowflake played Santa Baby only a few minutes ago. Was she losing her mind? She checked the clock again. It was 1:51 am. What was this? The fucking X-Files or time loop holes or something? Her question drifted to the unanswering trees on either side of her rental car.

Fuck it. She picked up her phone. She still had the number to the radio station saved from when she couldn't sleep the other night and tried to request a not Christmas song. Maybe she could slow the Christmas songs by distracting the DJ and keep herself awake at the same time. The two minute conversation with Snowflake the other night had broken up intensity of the Rachel Berry portrait stares if only for a few minutes. Maybe she could convince the Christmas-adled Snowflake to play a different song tonight, at the very least, maybe she could get her to stop playing the same song in a ten minute time frame.

It took a couple of tries before she could get her call through the terrible reception.

_Ring._  
><em> Ring. <em>  
><em> Ring. <em>

"_Hello caller you're here with DJ Snowflake on WMHS 97.3."_

"Yeah. Hi. I'm calling about your repeat policy on songs."

"_You want me to repeat a song?"_

"What? Please no! You played Santa Baby twice in the same hour. There has to be a policy on that."

"_Well the first one was the classic Santa Baby by Eartha Kitt. The next one was Madonna's version. Totally different songs."_

"You've got to be kidding me. They are the exact same song!" Santana wasn't finished. "By the way, I kept listening last night. You didn't have another caller. In fact, I've been listening to your program for the past six nights and I am the only person who's called in that entire time. As your only listener, I'm telling you to play something other than Santa Baby. _Maybe_-" Santana's voice pitched with sarcasm. "- you could try anything outside of the Christmas genre completely."

There was a slight pause and for a second Santana thought she might get her request.

"_I'm sorry ma'am. I didn't catch that. Your connection is breaking up. CRRASSSHHAAFGHHH."_

Santana glanced to the bars on her phone. This was the best it had been since she got to this frozen hell hole in the middle of nowhere.

"_I can't hear you clearly, CRAGGGAHHHSSHH but it sounded like you wanted to hear Santa Baby one more time."_

"What?" Santana yelled into the phone. "That's not what I said! No!"

The phone call clicked dead.

_Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree, for me  
>I've been an awful good girl<br>Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight_

Santana glanced down at the radio in disbelief. The lyrics to the Kylie Minogue version of the song started through the speakers of the car. DJ Snowflake was playing it again? This was the third time for the same song! How could anyone listen to same songs over and over again without going crazy? This time Santana didn't resist the urge to scream.

"Arhghghggg!"

She shook the wheel violently, but the song continued.


	8. December 8th

**Hey guys! Lots of awesome reviews (and some that have truly honestly made me laugh!) **

**Anyway, there are a lot of questions. **

**Number one: I just want to remind you all that this is NOT Sirens or Dovekin or really anything I've ever written before, DJS&S is done in the spirit of Christmas and serial fiction so it's going to jump, I'm not going to explain everything, and it does take some leniency from you, my readers, to work. So thank you! **

**Number two: this is loosely based after my own experience in the car last December. I don't have a cd player or even a cassette player, and my cigarette lighter at the time wasn't functioning so I couldn't hook into the speaker system in my car. (At this current moment, I don't even have a functioning radio. I bought a blue tooth speaker and attached it to my dashboard just so I can listen to my iphone in the car) Anyway, last year I commuted over an hour both ways just about every night because I was in my final semester of graduate school and working full time. My radio (when it was working) could only pick up Christmas music. So I started writing this fic in my head during my commutes and in class (when I should have been taking notes) as a way to keep myself sane and awake. **

**Number three: drive through small town Bumblefuck, Anywhere and you'll see that as crazy and ridiculous as this fic seems, it's really not that far from reality. Hahaha**

**Sorry for the long A/N. **

**Back to your favorite late night Christmas radio station….**

* * *

><p><strong>DJ Snowflake and Scrooge<strong>

_**December 8**_  
><em>9:57 pm<em>

"I just think if I am going to be the official Christmas show host, then I should be the one working tomorrow, Holly." Brittany walked into the sound booth and glanced to the digital clock on the wall. They only had about three minutes to argue and she had gotten nowhere with her friend and boss.

"Britt, I don't know what you want me to do. I can't switch you to tomorrow morning whether you've called yourself the Christmas show host or not because at this moment, in the middle of December, _every_ host and DJ on WMHS 97.3 is a Christmas one!"

"Come on, Holls!" Brittany threw her hands up and pointed to a picture of Sue on the wall of the studio. "You're telling me that Sue is DJ-ing a Christmas show? She hasn't played one Christmas song yet! It's ruining the whole Christmas spirit."

_9:59 pm_

"I can't do anything about it, Britt. Tomorrow's release is scheduled during her time block and Roz Washington didn't specify if she wanted you. It's Sue's name on the flyers and she's the one who's going to be hosting. My hands are tied." Holly frowned. "I still can't justify putting you on in the morning or even the afternoon."

"How about the Annual Tree Lighting? It's not during either of our blocks. Who's doing that?"

Holly's eyes glanced up once more. Brittany followed her line of sight back to the clock before sitting down and adjusting the headset over her hair. The look on Holly's face said their conversation would be shelved for the rest of night.

_10:00 pm_

Brittany let it go. It wasn't the right time and she had listeners to entertain. Her voice instantly lightened and her smile returned in full force. "Alright my high flying, night sky loving, reindeer riding friends. Welcome back to another late night Christmas time show with your favorite DJ – DJ Snowflake. I'm here to bring you all your favorite music hits and fill any requests you might have."

A light flashing on the display stopped Brittany's introduction midway.

"Before I can even start the show, we've got our first request of the night!" Britt hit the button. "Hello caller you're on the air with DJ Snowflake!"

"_Shit!" _

The voice on the other side of the line barked with agitation. Britt instantly recognized the voice. It was her mystery caller from the past two nights. In truth, this woman was the only voice she heard at night besides Holly.

"Whoa! That's not very festive language." Holly gave Britt a signal that she was going to delay the conversation feed by a second. "I won't tell Santa on you, but you're on the air right now so maybe you shouldn't broadcast your naughty mouth where Santa can hear you." Britt paused - a playful thought danced around the corners of her smile. A flash of excitement ran over her as she realized Holly wasn't going to cut this woman off as quickly tonight. Curious, Brittany changed the subject back to her caller. "I think I speak for all of our listeners when I ask what's your name?**"**

"_All of your listeners? So you mean me? Cause I'm the only one listening to you and I already know my name so I'm not that eager to share it with you. Also I didn't want to be on the air. I was trying to get to your office, but since it's 10 o'clock, no one's there to pick up my call. So if you could just patch me through to the voicemail of your boss that would be great. And you'll never have to hear from me again."_

Every word cut through the sound system like a dagger. Brittany cringed. Holly wrinkled her brow and shrugged.

"I hate to tell you that I can't forward you to our office extension until you make one song request." Brittany prompted. Everyone had a favorite Christmas song – well Brittany had about 100 and then some.

"_Listen, Snowflake." _

Britt's eyes widened.

"_Patch me through to the north pole to Santa Claus or Mrs. Claus or the Abominable Snowman or whatever you call your boss. I don't care. I just want to talk to whomever is charge of you."_

Brittany giggled with genuine amusement. "I definitely don't work for any of those people. That would be silly!"

"_Fine. Who do you work for?"_

"Holly Holliday of course! Everyone knows that." Brittany's eyes lit up. "So that means you must be from out of town! What are you doing-"

"_Holly? Holiday? Are you # %$-ing-"_

Thanks to Holly's magic fingers with the feed, she was able to beep most of the word.

"Naughty mouth…" Brittany whispered softly into the mic as if reminding the other woman that Santa could hear her.

"_-kidding me? And you thought me asking for the Abominable Snowman was ridiculous? Is that even a real name? Holly Holiday? What kinda of scam is this? Snowflake, I want to talk to your manager!"_

"I need a song request."

_"Holiday! I want Holiday's voicemail."_

"You only get Holliday when I get a song request."

_"Not happening." _

Britt glanced to her boss. The blonde shook her head vigorously _no. _Well that answered that.

There would be no manager available tonight!

Holly approved and drew her finger across her neck to cut off the call. She dropped the call without a good-bye or poor excuse this time.

"This next song is going out to our Scrooge caller! Maybe next time we can both get what we _wish for_, but until then-"

_Happy Holiday_  
><em> Happy holiday, happy holiday<em>  
><em> While the merry bells keep ringing<em>  
><em>May your every wish come true<em>

The sound system between the two booths clicked on and the room filled with Holly's laughter. Britt twisted in the swivel chair and kicked her feet in the air. Holly laughed so hard she was wiping tears away from her eyes. "You called her Scrooge and dedicated a song with my name in it to her! What were you thinking? If she ever gets a hold of my voicemail, she might break it with complaints."

"So it was bad?"

"Oh my God, no! It was perfect!"


	9. December 9th

**DJ Snowflake and Scrooge**

_**December 9 **_  
><em>9:15 am<em>

After another sleepless night and an early morning wakeup call of Rachel Berry boxes from Kurt, Santana needed a break from the bed & breakfast. She got into her rental car for a drive. In retrospect, it could have been a bad idea since she really only knew how to navigate two roads. And yet, after twenty minutes of aimlessly turning down streets, Santana had found what she was looking for.

In full daylight and without any wintery overcast, Santana could clearly see the sign.

_Roz's Golden Pump_

It was a strange name for a gas station, but nothing should have surprised her anymore in this town.

Santana was dying for coffee and perhaps some conversation from someone other than Kurt or Burt. Maybe that Sugar chick was working. Santana glanced to the still unfolded map on her passenger side seat. She did _technically_ pay for the worthless thing, but it was weird having it sit there doing nothing. And it wasn't like she was going to use it any time soon.

Maybe she could return it?

All thoughts of returning the map vanished as she drew closer to the gas station. Cars, lines of people, and signs flooded the parking lot. If Santana didn't know any better, she would have thought it was a line for a concert. People were jumping and hugging each other excitedly for whatever was going on inside the gas station store.

She honked her horn emphatically and slowly inched the rental car into the lot and found parking at the far side. Santana forgot about returning Sugar's map and started to seriously doubt she would be able to enter the gas station, much less get a cup of coffee. She wormed her way through the lines outside and entered the even more crowded gas station store. The building was filled to capacity with excited people in their heavy coats and hats waiting for something expectantly. Townsfolk crowded all of the aisles holding papers and receipts. They were all frantically trying to get closer to the counter.

"Don't touch me." Santana maneuvered through another throng of people and forced herself into the corner of the gas station store in the opposite direction of everyone else. It was the only place in _Roz's Golden Pump _where there was some breathing room.

"Move. I got here first." A woman bumped into her from behind. "I need to be at the front. I pre-ordered on the first day it was released! There is no reason I should be back here!"

"Move?" Santana swiveled around to confront the woman and give her a piece of her mind, but she was already gone and moving through the crowd to the front of the store. Santana raised her voice after the woman. "Yeah. Good fucking morning to you too!"

Despite trying to ignore and avoid every around her, Santana could still hear portions of conversations happening throughout the store.

"I just can't believe they are releasing all of her albums together in one collection."

"I pre-ordered the first day so I bought them on vinyl. It comes with a lithograph!"

"My nephew did that. I was too late and I had to get the three cd collection with a poster."

Santana decided she didn't want to know what was happening. She wanted her coffee and to get out of the Christmas zombie land happening at Roz's Golden Pump. There was still hot coffee on the burner. Santana grabbed the closest cup to her hand and quickly poured the coffee to the brim. No sugar. No creamer. She wanted to get out of the store as soon as possible.

The music in the gas station cut out. It was replaced by a different feed and came from a different source. "Alright, Midtown citizens-"

Santana stood on her toes to try to peer over the crowd of people.

"-it's the moment your consumer saturated desires have been waiting for. For this morning's Sue's Serious Doubts, I seriously doubt you can wait even a minute longer for the release of Rachel Berry's_ The Berry Best Christmas Album: The Definitive Christmas Edition." _

The gas station erupted with screams of excitement. Santana pulled back from the nearest person to protect her coffee from the man's flailing arms. This crowd was for a Rachel Berry re-release? Santana thought maybe it could have been for a meet and greet with Beyoncé or – she glanced around and re-evaluated her socio-geographical location– maybe Mitt Romney.

But for a "Definitive Edition" Rachel Berry album release? What?

"WMHS 97.3 and-" Sue's voice paused over the microphone. Santana didn't have to see the woman to know she was frowning. With reluctance, Sue mentioned the other sponsor for the morning's events."-Roz Washington, owner of Roz's Golden Pump, are ecstatic to be here this morning. Now!" She barked. "Everyone who has their pre-order receipts get into the line over near the chips and snacks aisle. Everyone else you can go to the dairy and cold aisle to pick up your copy while supplies last."

The crowd violently shifted from the front of the store to the back. Men and women waved their pre-order papers and flocked to the back of the store. The loud voices almost made it impossible to hear the feed from the radio station, but Santana could have sworn she heard Sue mutter '_animals'_ before she continued to broadcast her show through the radio.

"Really, the way Sue's sees it, is if Rachel Berry is _still_ the greatest thing to have ever come out of Midtown then it is a failure on the part of the local government and, like all things, the liberal agenda destroying the education system._"_

Santana finally forced her way through the store and slapped her cup of coffee on the counter. "How much do I owe you?"

"Umm-" A voice pondered. "-like do you want me to give you a price or do you want the actual price?"

Santana stopped searching for her wallet and looked up to see bright red nails on the counter. She quickly glanced up. "Sugar?"

"Oh! My! God!" The gas station attendant exclaimed. "Map Lady! You're real!"

Santana hadn't felt particularly thrilled to see Sugar, but she was one of the few people Santana had met in town. But "map lady" really? "Of course I'm real. We talked last week."

"I know, but then I never saw you again and I was thinking about how mysterious and grouchy you were and that maybe you weren't a serial killer, but more like a ninja since you just – POOF! Disappeared!" Sugar talked almost as fast as her hands moved. Her red nails flashed in the air at a dazzling speed. "And then I thought about all the people who probably deserved to be assassinated around here-" Her eyes darted toward to the radio stand where Sue and who could only be the Roz Washington of Roz's Golden Pump were arguing. "-and it just made sense that you were too busy to come visit again."

"I'm not a ninja or an assassin either."

"But you are pretty grouchy." Sugar stated as fact.

"I-" Santana remembered the conversation with DJ Snowflake the previous night and rolled her eyes. "Whatever. How much do I owe you for the coffee so I can get the hell out of this madness?"

"That's going to be $2.39."

"$2.39? I've paid less for the best coffee in New York!" Santana dug out an extra dollar from her purse and slapped it on the counter.

"Oh! My! God!"

"I know – I know – I'm the map lady." Santana tried to grab her coffee and leave before Sugar could say anything else. Sugar snatched the coffee cup away from Santana before she could grab it. "Hey!" Santana practically snarled. "Give me my coffee! I just paid for that!"

"Ms. Washington! Ms. Washington!"

"What?"

"What?"

Both Sue and Roz snapped their heads in Sugar's direction.

"Map lady just bought the Berry Special cup you hid!"

"She did what now?" Roz asked and stepped away from Sue toward the counter.

Santana glanced down at the coffee in Sugar's hand and noticed for the first time that it was plastered in Rachel Berry's face and her album cover art. "Oh you've got to be kidding me."

"Map lady!" Roz snapped. "You are a winner today! I like that. I like winners. I said whoever bought the Berry Special coffee cup would win their very own _Definitive Christmas Edition_ paid for by me! Come on over here and claim your prize so Sue can announce it over the radio."

"What?" Santana shook her head. "I just wanted a coffee and I refuse to win anything with Rachel Berry's face on it and certainly _not _the entirety of her Christmas catalogue. You can keep that to yourself."

Without waiting for an argument, Santana snatched her coffee cup from Sugar's hands and fled the gas station. She ran out to her rental car, threw open the door, and sped out of the lot.

Santana glanced down to the coffee cup sitting securely in the cup holder. Five sets of Rachel Berry eyes stared back at her as if mocking her.

"What the fuck?" Santana twisted the cup so she wouldn't have Rachel staring at her, but every inch of the cup was covered in the late singer's face. Finally, Santana gave up and resolutely glued her gaze to the road.

She flew through town and slammed her car in a parking space in front of the town hall. Unlike the previous day, Main Street was deserted. One or two parked cars lined either side of the road. There were no people shopping and holding bags from store to store or children skipping along to songs from the speakers. It was like entering a ghost town. Granted, it was still Christmas decorated, but the effect of deserted streets produced a rather creepier effect than intended.

Santana stuffed her hands into her coat pockets and decided to leave the Rachel Berry cup in the car. So far the coffee cup had only attracted the attention of crazy people. Santana moved briskly to the side entrance. This town was so strange. Santana yanked open the door and was relieved to once again be in the heat. She expected to see some coworkers Mercedes had talked about, but like the town, the office building was also deserted.

"Santana?" The sound of heels clicking at the end of the hall came to a stop. Mercedes paused mid stride. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" Santana glanced around. "This place is a ghost town right now."

Mercedes followed Santana's gaze around the closed office doors and the lack of traffic in the hallway. "I totally forgot the Rachel Berry's _The Berry Best Christmas Album_:_ The Definitive Collection_ released today. Everyone is picking up their preorders."

"Let me guess…at the gas station?"

"Yeah." Mercedes answered. "How'd you know?"

"Just a guess." Santana dryly answered. "At least you're not there getting one of those ridiculous albums. They play her music nonstop on the radio. Why would anyone need a way to listen to her _more_?"

"Of course I'm not in line. I pulled some strings with Roz and got three copies for Sam, my parents, and myself two weeks ago. And before you roll your eyes, Santana, she's the most famous thing to ever come out of Midtown. Fifty years later and we – the town - still loves her."

"Trust me." Santana thought of the Rachel Berry face coffee cup waiting for her return in the car. "I think I have a pretty good clue."

Mercedes gave her a questioning look, but pursued it no further. "What are you doing here? It's a little early for the midnight shift don't you think?"

"I was hoping you'd show me how to log onto your computer. I tried last night and I couldn't get it to work. I wanted to look up the National Historic Landmark Registry laws for Pennsylvania."

"Why?"

"I have no idea what to do with all this Rachel Berry stuff at the Hummel's. I don't know if it even has monetary value, much less historical value. So I thought I would at least see what I can find on registry requirements."

"Shouldn't you know this off the top of your head?"

"I work with historical documents. I don't work with landmarks or registry. I haven't done work like this since graduate school. And even then, it was a class project with a controlled site. Our professor had already done the preliminaries, but he needed us to do the grunt work for research. Come to think of it, I probably should have been mentioned when he published."

"Come on. I'll show you how. But you should know that even Doris, the mummy I employ here, can figure out the log-in without my help."

"From all the time I've spent at her desk, I'm pretty sure the only thing she can log in and out is her extensive collection of card catalogs which I heard are gonna make a comeback. I'm sure they'll be back in style like the abacus or a cart and buggy."

"You're lucky she's not here right now." Mercedes opened her office door. "I did mention she's a bow hunter, right?"

"Oooooh right! I'm so scared." Santana rolled her eyes with a smirk.


	10. December 10th

**So I wasn't going to do an A/N on this chapter, but hi, anon reviewer talim! Your review was just far too ironic to pass on. I chose PA because that's where I live and I wanted to write in a familiar setting. All of my other fics are set in Ohio, New York, or Skyrim. ;DDDD **

**Second (and I am crying with laughter because of the irony) Taylor Swift IS from my hometown and not only that but we went to rival high schools in the same neighborhood at the same time. So a lot of my friends in high school were her friends. Where we grew up isn't as ridiculous as this fic, but it's about a 15 minute drive from our nice suburbs to the country. :D**

**So thank you for an A+ review full of hilarious irony! **

**Now, back to your daily dose of DJ Snowflake and Scrooge!**

* * *

><p><strong>DJ Snowflake and Scrooge<strong>

_**December 10 **_  
><em>1:19 am<em>

"_MERRY CHRISTMAS!"_

Santana startled at Mercedes's desk at the obnoxious Merry Christmas and glared across the room to radio on the filing cabinet.

"_Sorry! I was just practicing. I don't want to surprise anyone with a bad Merry Christmas when it comes. Hopefully you feel the same way and you'll sing along to the next song with me."_

_"Bah, humbug" no, that's too strong_  
><em>Cause it is my favorite holiday<em>  
><em>But all this year's been a busy blur<em>  
><em>Don't think I have the energy<em>

Santana adjusted her reading glasses so they rested on the top of her head and took a deep breath. She reached across Mercedes' desk for her pad of paper and bit the cap on the top of her pen – Mercedes' pen – in concentration. She had spent a good part of the night going through the National Register Bulletin and how to apply for evaluation. It hadn't been easy. The PDFs looked like they had been scanned from a bulletin printed in 1983. Half of the time, the pages didn't load or only partially loaded and then there were a dozen links that contained pertinent information. No matter what Santana wrote down, it was becoming clear that this website would only take her so far. It wouldn't gift wrap an application or point her to the exact document she would need for Hummel's Bed and Breakfast.

She slid her glasses back down over the bridge of her nose before she wrote down a few more documents required. She scribbled: Historical Person of Significance.

_Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas_  
><em>Couldn't miss this one this year<em>  
><em>Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas<em>  
><em>Couldn't miss this one this year<em>

Santana glanced back to the radio. Did DJ Snowflake have to insist on playing the most nerve-wracking and annoying songs in the entire Christmas catalog? The refrain repeated another five times before Santana started chewing on the back of Mercedes's pen again and looked back to the filing cabinet.

The song finally ended and Santana released a breath of relief. She had finally found a comfortable position in her chair where she could reach her notes, mouse, keyboard, and her coffee. As much as she would prefer not listening to Snowflake abuse the repeat policy for the DJ's favorite ten Christmas songs, Santana found it hard to keep her eyes open without something annoying playing in the background.

"_So, listeners, as you know, today was the big release of__ The Berry Best Christmas Album: The Definitive Christmas Edition. Unfortunately, I couldn't be there, but I heard it was a great time put together by Roz Washington. I also heard that Roz's Golden Pump tried to give out a special album collection – part of a limited series-the winner mysteriously disappeared before they could collect their prize."_

Santana leaned forward over her yellow lined paper into the computer screen and clicked on one of the links to the National Register Bulletin, document 16a for registration.

"_So until someone calls in with a request, I am going to play every Rachel Berry song from every album – including the deep tracks; starting with It Came Upon a Midnight Clear_."

Santana tried to tune out the music as best she could and continued to jot down notes.

"_Now Hark! The Herald Angels Sing. Unless you want to be the first person to dial 1-800-SNOFLAKE."_

It was getting harder to focus on the screen when DJ Snowflake played the fourth consecutive Rachel Berry song. Santana dropped her pen and pad to the desk and stood up. Fuck it. She walked past the radio on the cabinet and out of Mercedes' office. The hallway was dark except for a few emergency lights that glowed over the exits and around the base of the floors. It was only her third night at the town hall, but Santana could easily navigate the dark halls without turning on the lights. While she had enjoyed Mercedes' visit the other night, she didn't want to get in the habit of people calling her best friend to check on the town hall.

She walked down the stairs to the town records. Santana turned on Doris's desk light and walked over to the card catalog.

"_Of course, how could I forget Rachel Berry's inspired cover of Joy to the World that took the Christmas song industry by storm in 1963. That was just a year after she had come back to visit Midtown that winter."_

Christmas song industry? Was there even a thing? Santana tried to ignore the DJ's rambling, but Snowflake's mini history lesson triggered her memory from the Hummel's Bed and Breakfast.

1962 – guestbook with phone number, portrait done by Reginald Turnbottom, a local artist, one gold inlaid brush, three sheet music books – only one had been written in, and records of stay.

Santana closed her eyes and visualized what she could remember of Kurt's 1962 Rachel Berry box. Reginald Turnbottom's portrait hung adjacent to the record player in the corner of her room. The self-important Rachel Berry wore a long green nightgown looking dress with a white collar around her neck. Her fingers were strategically placed over a gold star statue and her eyes stared straight at Santana.

Santana opened her eyes and tried to clear her head of lingering thoughts or images of the creepy Berry portraits. The last thing she needed was to think about going back to sleep in that room.

"_So call that number 1-800-SNOFLAKE to get your own Definitive Collection and to request any Christmas song. I can play these Rachel Berry songs all night long."_

Santana grabbed her cell phone and sprinted up the stairs. "Someone has to put an end to this."

* * *

><p>Brittany's heart jumped at the red flash on her dashboard to signal that she finally had a caller on the line. Without waiting for Holly to ask if she wanted to screen the caller, Brittany punched the line through.<p>

"YOU ARE CALLER NUMBER ONE!" Brittany exclaimed. At the same time, she hit the button for the celebration track to play. "You just won _The Berry Best Christmas Album: The Definitive Christmas Edition_ limited release! How excited are you?"

"_You've got to be kidding me."_ The voice muttered.

Confused by the response, Brittany cleared her throat. Maybe this woman didn't know she had made it through the line. She raised her voice just a little. "Caller! Can you believe that you just won this one of a kind gift that someone abandoned today at Roz's Golden Pump? Their loss is your gain! What station just hooked you up with the greatest gift ever?"

"_What? I don't want it! I didn't want it before! I just wanted someone to call you to stop the non-stop Berry playlist."_

"Before? What are you talki- wait..." Brittany's bright eyes flashed over to Holly. "Is this my Scrooge caller?"

"_Your what? Let's make one thing clear, Snowflake, I'm not your anything."_

"Well technically you're my first caller tonight so that makes you _my_ winner."

"_Absolutely not. You can keep it – whatever it is."_

"Then are you calling to make a request because that's the only way I'm going to stop playing Berry songs tonight."

"_I will never make a Christmas song request, Snowflake, so you can forget it."_

The Scrooge caller's voice trailed off as if thinking about something. Brittany was about to suggest that she dedicate the next Rachel Berry song to her, but something made her wait.

"_Maybe you would have more than one caller if you stopped giving out the wrong number to call in."_

"What?" Brittany scrunched her nose and turned to Holly. She hit the button to talk to Holly directly. "What's Scrooge talking about?"

Holly answered back. "No idea."

Brittany switched back to the phone line broadcasting over the radio. "What are you talking about?"

"_You realize that the number to call into the radio station is 1-800-973-WMHS and not 1-800-SNOFLAKE? When I tried dialing that other number, I got connected to an ornament factory in Michigan. I found your station's number in the phone book and that's what I've been calling. You probably should have checked if you had a call-in number before advertising it every single night."_

Brittany's jaw dropped and she whipped her head back to Holly. Her boss scrambled. Brittany could see the confusion on her face switch to panic. Holly frantically dug around her office on the other side of the glass searching for confirmation.

"I don't have a call in number?"

"_Nope!" _ Scrooge's answer sounded something akin to pleasure. Brittany could hardly believe it. Not only had Scrooge one upped her this time, but how many times had listeners called into an ornament factory in Michigan instead of her show?

"_You know, now would probably be a good time to try playing something else. I've heard there are other songs besides Christmas ones."_

The phone clicked dead.

Brittany opened and closed her mouth a hundred times in disbelief. Holly waved frantically behind the glass with a guilty cringe. She mouthed the word. _Sorry. _Scrooge was right? She had been giving out the wrong phone number for the past ten days?

She only had one choice.

Brittany turned her feed back on and flashed Holly a "well shit" expression. Her mouth pressed against the mic of the headset and without missing another beat, she enthusiastically spoke. "Well I guess we can move on from our extra-long Berry Block for the night and hold on to that Definitive Edition collection for the next time Scrooge calls in. Until then, I am taking any Christmas request you might have at 1-800-973-WMHS. I repeat that's 1-800-9-7-3-W-M-"

She stopped talking. Her dashboard lit up once and then a second time. Brittany's attention jumped to Holly. She mouthed to her boss. _More than one?_

The incredulity on Holly's face was enough to confirm that DJ Snowflake did indeed have more than one caller waiting on the line.

Brittany couldn't stop smiling. She hit the button, held onto her headset with her right hand, and spun around in her chair. "Hello listener! This is DJ Snowflake and you're on WMHS 97.3. What song can I play for you?"


	11. December 11th

**DJ Snowflake and Scrooge**

_**December 11**_  
><em>10:37 pm<em>

_We'll cozy up together by the fireside_  
><em>And just before we close our eyes<em>  
><em>Wish upon a star it snows again tonight<em>

"We still have a few days, Holls. Just let me do the Annual Tree Lighting. You won't regret it. It's going to be nothing like the morning show."

Brittany queued the next song to one she hadn't played very often this season. She had a habit of changing songs last minute and fiddling with the computer generated playlist. Holly had long since gotten used to Brittany's habits. She liked flexibility with her song choices.

_Uh, Alvin, you were a little flat_  
><em>So, watch it, Alvin…Alvin?...ALVIN!<em>  
><em>We can hardly stand the wait, <em>  
><em>Please Christmas don't be late.<em>

"I don't know what's going on for the lighting ceremony. And I'm only keeping you on the night show. I don't need Sue to round up the town council again to make another ordinance against you. So far no one has called in to complain. Let's not push it."

Brittany resolutely ignored everything Holly said about the ordinance. Her stint as Miss Sunshine in the morning had nothing to do with playing Christmas music at a tree lighting.

"Hello! Annual – Tree – Lighting –" Brittany stressed every word. "It's going to have to take place at night."

"I don't even know if we're going to have enough money to pay for the sound crew, the lighting, the booth, and you to be there. WMHS 97.3 might not be at the tree lighting at all this year."

"What?! Not be there? We've been there-" Brittany glanced down at her dashboard. The red light blinking indicated there was a caller on the line. She didn't pick up right away. They still had to finish the last song in the block. "-we've been there every year since forever. It's tradition."

"Sorry, hun." Holly shrugged. "Not all traditions last forever. If you get buzz going about the radio station, you might drum up some last minute sponsors somewhere and raise some money."

Brittany wanted to insist they find the some more sponsors somewhere – anywhere. They had done work before with the hardware store and the pharmacy on Main Street. The light on her dashboard continued to blink. The counter for the song diminished.

_As he flew over the countryside_  
><em>He was still listening<em>  
><em>When from a little church below<em>  
><em>He heard a voice begin to sing<em>

As the last of the song played, Brittany readjusted her headset and picked up her notecards for the night. "That was the Trans-Siberian Orchestra and their _Christmas Eve/Sarajevo. _Don't forget to Hummel's Bed and Breakfast. Here to serve your heart's desire even in the heart of winter. It looks like we have a caller just waiting to request the next song!" Brittany pressed the button to take the call. "Listener, you are on the air with DJ Snowflake! What song can I play for you next? Or maybe you have an answer for my question about fruitcake. Is there fruit in the cake? Why? Wouldn't it be better to just have cake?"

"_Snowflake." _

Without thinking, Brittany exclaimed. "Scrooge!"

Brittany knew the woman's voice. Her eyes brightened with excitement and she flashed Holly the toothiest smile. Sure she had a few callers and requests since Scrooge had given her listeners the correct phone number to call in, but no one had been as entertaining as Scrooge. Without thinking, Brittany spun around in her chair. "What can I do for you?"

"_I know you're not gonna stop the Christmas songs. I get it. Fine. I do have one request though. Don't play The Chipmunk Song again. Ever."_

Brittany heard only a few select words. In fact, they were the most important words: song, Christmas, and request.

"Ladies and gentlemen! We have our first song request from Scrooge! Oh. My. God. I've been waiting to use this!" Brittany hit one of the many buttons on her dashboard. The sound of obnoxious applause erupted through the broadcast. "It almost feels like Christmas morning!"

"_Snowflake…"_ The voice on the other line warned.

"Angels are singing!"

"_Snowflake."_

"Frosty's dancing and the elves are jumping!"

"_SNOWFLAKE!"_

The celebratory noises and soundtrack shut off abruptly. Silence filled the air waves.

Softly, the radio personality answered. "Yes, Scrooge?"

Holly shot Brittany a look through the glass. Her eyebrows arched. Perhaps the response was too familiar, too intimate, but she didn't throw Brittany a signal to cut off the feed. Whatever had been in Brittany's voice had made her boss curious to see this continue. It was a much different dynamic from the previous nights. For the moment, she rolled her finger in the air to signal Brittany to go on.

Brittany was surprised. She had expected Holly to cut the call short. It seemed unlikely that Holly would have wanted her to keep talking to Scrooge, but Brittany didn't question the directive. She didn't want to lose whatever piqued Holly's curiosity, so she continued in the same tone of voice. "How can I help you?"

"_Snowflake, don't play The Chipmunk Song ever again."_

"Why? It's a holiday classic. It's nostalgic, full of great lyrics, and there's nothing that says Christmas more than singing animals! I just think you're confused. I can play it again!"

"_It's possibly the worst Christmas song of all time and that's counting Baby, It's Cold Outside."_

"Fine, no _Baby, It's Cold Outside_. It is a little high on the creep factor, so I won't play that one. Anyway, Alvin's so funny, especially when he's getting yelled at. He's like the animal version of Dennis the Menace or Kevin from Home Alone. I will definitely play _The Chipmunk Song_ again."

"_No! Oh my god, no, please for the sake of my sanity, could you please never play The Chipmunk Song again?"_

"You'll have to forgive me, Scrooge, it's just I'm not used to you using the word please. It doesn't seem like it would be in your vocabulary." Brittany knew she was pushing the woman's buttons. She could feel Scrooge's gamut of emotions from irritation to impatience to chagrin and finally to resignation that Brittany had effectively called her out.

Her tone was markedly supplicant and sweet._ "Snowflake…"_

Brittany waited patiently and glanced over to Holly. They both could hear the woman's teeth grinding through the call.

"_I am - begging- you. Please don't play The Chipmunk Song."_

Brittany flushed at the word _begging _and broke all eye contact with Holly. She took a quick breath and glanced down at her control panel. They had been talking for over a minute now. Unfortunately, that was the only information it told her. The counter did little to reveal anything about Scrooge or why she had just _begged_ Brittany not to play _The Chipmunk Song_ anymore.

Brittany almost felt bad for teasing her so much. Maybe _The Chipmunk Song_ reminded her of an ex-boyfriend or a giftless Christmas or maybe a bad experience with chipmunks. Maybe that was why Scrooge was out here – in the middle of nowhere. She was just trying to escape the pain of poorly voice acted cartoons. There could be a million reasons why Scrooge didn't want to hear _The Chipmunk Song_. It wasn't the first time Brittany wondered about who her mystery caller was or what she was doing in town or why she didn't want to share her name or why she continued to call the show when it was clear that she didn't enjoy Christmas songs as much as Brittany did.

What did Scrooge even look like?

Maybe she had a top hat and a monocle.

Or that was Scrooge McDuck. It was hard to keep track of all the Scrooges, but still…close enough. This wasn't the first time Brittany had thought about Scrooge's personal life, but it was the first time she thought about a woman dressed as a duck. Holly waved her arms and flapped in the air trying to get Brittany's attention. Her boss was debating if she should cut Scrooge off the line again and it didn't help that Brittany had just turned into a space cadet.

Holly reached for the button.

No!

Brittany made eye contact with Holly and violently shook her head. Brittany quickly grasped for a way back into the conversation. But the only words she could remember Scrooge saying were -

_I'm begging -_

Without thinking, Brittany said the first thing that came to mind. "It's been awhile since a woman's begged me for something."

Brittany didn't realize what she said until she saw Holly jerk forward. Her boss's eyes bulged.

Brittany lifted her hands and shot Holly a very unconvincing smile as an apology. She frantically mouthed. _What?_ And hoped that she wouldn't be in too much trouble.

Holly waved her hands frantically in the air, signaling that Brittany needed to keep talking. Even if they only had one listener, there still couldn't be any awkward pauses. That made for bad radio.

"Keep talking!" Holly whispered into Brittany's headset.

Before Holly could disconnect Scrooge or Brittany could think of something to fill in the silence, the phone line cut back into the feed.

"_Oh so you're used to women begging you for things?"_

"Jealous?" Brittany smirked into the microphone and completely ignored the gestures Holly threw into the sound booth.

"_I don't know what kind of game you're playing at, Snowflake, but maybe you can get one of those women to call in. I take back my request. You can play The Chipmunk Song all you want."_

The phone clicked off.

Brittany glanced over to Holly. Her boss's mouth was still agape. Neither of them knew what to say. Brittany reached over and manipulated the queue. She casually slotted the next twenty-five spots for the Chipmunks song.

_Alright you Chipmunks, ready to sing your song?_

"Britt…" Holly warned in the sound booth. "Think about what you're doing…"

_I'd say we are!_  
><em>Yeah! Let's sing it now!<em>

"She said I could play the song as many times as I want…"

"Yes, but we have sponsors to please and other songs to play." Holly saw the look in Brittany's eyes. She tried to appeal to Brittany's Christmas spirit. "You were going to do a special segment on reindeer myths and Santa sightings tonight."

"We can bump those. I've got lots of time and we might not even be broadcasting at the Annual Tree Lighting. I think that clears my schedule for another night to do the reindeer special."

The Chipmunks song looped and started to play again.

"Britt…"

"Holls, trust me, this is going to be great. No worries. You know how good I am…"

Holly lifted her eyebrow at Brittany's choice of words. She had seen how "good" her protégé could be with other women. The idea of witnessing Brittany trying the same sort of shenanigans over the radio on Holly's show was more than enough to make her worried. She had seen Brittany get excited although this was on a different level. Something about Scrooge had sparked a switch in Brittany. This Scrooge had intrigued Brittany so much that she wasn't going to stop until the Christmas grouch called again.

"By playing the Chipmunks song over again? I'm sure that's really gonna go great." Holly shook her head and looked at the clock. "You have until the end of your show and then tomorrow we're moving on."

"Just trust me. It won't go longer than that."

"Get whatever that -" Holly wagged her finger to the inside of the studio to refer to whatever exchange just happened between Brittany and Scrooge. "-was and get it out of your system. I'm probably going to get phone calls from the town council about the impropriety of our late night show."

_We can hardly stand the wait, _  
><em>Please Christmas don't be late.<em>

Holly wanted her to attract more attention to the show and Brittany wanted to make sure Scrooge was listening. If her plan didn't accomplish both, then Brittany doubted there was anything she could do to gain more listeners.


	12. December 12th

_**December 12**_  
><em>6:09 am<em>

High pitch, shrill, and auto-tuned voices cut through the air. They sang the same lyrics they had been singing for the past seven hours. The only time they hadn't played was during a word from WMHS 97.3's sponsor – Hummel's Bed and Breakfast.

Brittany had the math all figured out. _The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Don't Be Late)_ was less than three minutes long. Occasionally, she had to plug in advertisements for Hummel's Bed and Breakfast. There were a few times where the track didn't play immediately and a few other variables. In her estimation, she had probably played _The Chipmunk Song_ nineteen times every hour that she had been in the studio. She looked at the clock. That was about 7 hours ago.

This had to be the one hundred and thirty-third time Brittany had consecutively played the chipmunks singing about Christmas.

_Christmas, Christmas time is near_  
><em>Time for toys and time for cheer<em>  
><em>We've been good, but we can't last<em>  
><em>Hurry Christmas, hurry fast<em>

Brittany tapped her fingers on the desk in time with the song. She was completely unaware that while she never grew tired of this Christmas song, she had slowly been driving the town insane.

_Thump_

_Thump_

She glanced to the dashboard in front of her. It flashed in shades of red like a Christmas tree. Each light represented another caller trying to reach WMHS 97.3.

With the same gusto and enthusiasm she had every time she answered the phone, Brittany pressed the button and shouted over the loud thumping reverberating through the sound booth. "Listener! You're on the air!."

"_Hello?"_ The called questioned.

Brittany couldn't answer because the small thumping suddenly grew louder and more insistent.

_THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP_

"OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW, SUNSHINE!"

Brittany whipped away from her dashboard and completely forgot about her caller on the line. The door to the sound booth banged against the barricade Brittany had constructed of furniture and random equipment from the sound booth to prevent anyone from interrupting her.

The voice of the caller trying to talk to Brittany on the phone kept repeating. _"Hello?"_

"I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE AND YOU LOCKED ME OUT! THIS IS MY TIME BLOCK! YOU WILL OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW, SUNSHINE! OR I'LL MAKE SURE YOU NEVER HAVE A BLOCK OR A SPONSOR OR A JOB IN THIS TOWN AGAIN!"

The door continued to bulge against Sue's repeated attacks. Brittany cringed. That door wouldn't last forever, especially if Sue was determined to take the sound booth back by force.

"Well! Thanks for calling in!" Brittany shouted into the headset to the caller. "And you bet we will be dedicating this next song to Scrooge!"

"_That's not what I asked for-"_

* * *

><p><em>7:17 am<em>

Santana had fallen asleep at Doris' desk and woke up completely confused about her whereabouts. Before any of the regular town hall employees arrived at work, Santana scrambled to leave. She didn't want to meet anyone and she certainly didn't want Mercedes to know she had fallen asleep doing work. Mercedes would have never let her live it down.

After the way she ended her conversation with DJ Snowflake the previous night, Santana decided to drive the distance back to the bed and breakfast in silence. She still couldn't believe DJ Snowflake had the nerve to say she was jealous and that she needed to beg like other women to get the song changed on the show. That would be the _last _time Santana would call or even listen to the radio host.

Santana didn't realize she would feel so relieved to see the Hummel's Bed and Breakfast sign. The old building was a welcome sight. She parked her car and scooped her packet of notes from her passenger side seat. The map she had bought from Sugar rested underneath her notepad and papers. Santana still hadn't decided what to do with the outdated thing, so she left it in her car.

Normally the bed and breakfast was quiet this early in the morning – or at least Santana had never been disturbed by loud noises or excitement during her stay.

This morning was completely different.

Santana walked into the Hummel's with the expectation of the smell of hot chocolate and breakfast. Instead, she walked into a wall of sound. The radio was blasting.

Kurt and Burt were in the parlor sitting next to the radio. Neither of them looked up to greet Santana. They were too focused on whatever noise was coming from the radio. It would have sounded like a heavy drumming except the beats weren't in time. There were muffled shouts coming through the feed. Santana wouldn't have cared enough to approach Kurt and Burt, but she was curious what they were listening to. The sounds of voices cut in and out of _The Chipmunk Song. _

Santana rolled her eyes. Seriously? She had ended her night with that song and now she was going to start her morning the same way.

"What are you listening to?" Santana finally asked.

Kurt looked up. "Oh! Santana! Here!" He patted the sofa cushion next to him. "Sit down. You have to listen to this. DJ Snowflake took over the radio station this morning and has been dedicating _The Chipmunk Song _to this mysterious Scrooge character. And Sue just found out that Snowflake barricaded herself in the sound booth. I'm pretty sure Sue's gonna kill her."

Burt's expression was much less excited. "I'm not so sure this was a good investment running these ads if Sue kills the DJ who's supposed to read them."

"Where's your sense of adventure?" Kurt's eyes were gleaming. "This is better entertainment than my TV shows!"

Santana's face drained of color. "What about this Scrooge person?"

"No one knows! I mean we pay for the ads, but it's not like the show tells us anything about what DJ Snowflake is planning on talking about any night. Anyway, there's all this gossip going around that Scrooge isn't real and that this is some publicity stunt for ratings."

"That's an unfounded rumor." Burt chided his son.

"Well whether it's true or not, it's working. I'm completely enthralled."

"I just hope people aren't going to blame us for this song playing on repeat." Burt frowned and glanced to the phone on the side table next to the sofa. So far it had been quiet.

Santana backed away from the radio and the sofa. People actually thought she wasn't real? People – besides Sugar - actually listened to that ridiculous radio station?

"_This is DJ Snowflake and I think you know what song I'm going to play next. This is play number one hundred and forty-four and I'm dedicating it to Scrooge and to the great Sue Sylvester. If we play enough Christmas music this morning, maybe Sue and Scrooge will realize it's almost Christmas time."_

* * *

><p><em>9:13 am<em>

"_Hello? Hello? Is this DJ Snowflake? Play a different song! Can I request anything? Please? I want to hear Jingle Bells, White Christmas, anything by TSO. Just stop The Chipmunk Song! My children haven't stopped singing it all morning! This is almost as bad as Let It Go. Can I request that instead?"_

One frantic caller's voice filtered through the radio. Brittany had tried to cut the call off, but she was too pressed to reach the button. She shouldered her body against the barricade. Sue had found a podium in the conference room down the hall and was using it like a battering ram. Brittany's mic was still fully functional and their confrontation could easily be heard by everyone listening to WMHS 97.3.

"SUNSHINE! I WILL TAKE THE SOUND BOOTH BY FORCE!"

Sue rammed into the door with the podium. The entire room shook. Brittany braced and prepared for the next attack.

"Sue, I _seriously_ doubt you'll do that." Brittany shouted back using Sue's own catch phrase. The door rattled again accompanied by a roar of indignation from the other radio host. Brittany couldn't help laughing into the microphone at her own joke.

Brittany leaned against the door and waited for the next hit to come, but it never came.

Holly's voice came through her headset. "Brittany, open the door. Let Sue in. We need to talk."

The words were like a physical blow. Brittany knew it would be coming, but still, it would have been better if she could have antagonized Sue for a few more minutes. She looked over to Holly's office. Her boss stood at the glass window with an emotionless expression. She was talking very intensely on the phone.

Brittany puffed out her cheeks and swore. "Jingle bells."

She saw the look in Holly's face. She really messed up this time and she could only speculate who Holly was talking to.

Brittany pulled back from the barricade and pushed aside the furniture. She had only cleared half of the blockade when Sue rammed the podium against the door and burst through the barrier. She panted and tossed the podium aside with a furious roar. Her eyes were like lasers directed at Brittany. "You!"

"Hey, Sue!" Brittany answered cheerfully. "I was just keeping your seat warm for you!"

"Not for long, Sunshine." Sue snatched the headset from Brittany's head. "When Holliday fires your ass, it will be all the warmth my seat needs."

"We'll see about that, Sue."

Brittany walked over the mess from the barricade and the discarded podium. She didn't look back. She couldn't. Sue's words played over and over again in her mind. She knew that taking over Sue's slot in the morning would end in a disaster, but seeing Sue foam like that had been worth it. Despite her desire to host the morning show, Brittany knew it had been a foolish dream and Holly said they probably weren't going to do the Annual Tree Lighting. What did she have to lose?

Besides, maybe Scrooge had heard all one hundred and sixty-six times she played _The Chipmunk Song._ Now that would have been worth it.

"I'm sorry, Holls."

Brittany started to explain, but Holly shook her head. "Britt! The stunt you just pulled is the reason why you can't be Miss Sunshine anymore. You just can't help yourself, can you? I told you to finish whatever nonsense you had planned last night, but now you pissed off half the town _and_ Sue."

"But did you see Sue's face?" She tried to deflect.

"I just got off the phone with the president of the CCCMV."

"The what?" Brittany quickly did the Roman Numerals in her head. "Two-hundred thousand nine hundred and five?"

"Did you just-" Holly started to ask how Brittany had figured that out so fast, but moved on. "No, it's The Concerned Christians in the Community for Morals and Values group. They happened to catch a majority of your show last night and this morning."

"That can't be good…"

"They want to buy a full night of advertising."

"I'm sor-" Britt started to apologize again, but realized what Holly had said. "They want to what? They want to sponsor us?"

"Oh no!" Holly shook her head with a rueful smile. "They don't want to sponsor you at all. In fact, they are convinced that our radio station is participating in some kind of unspeakable evil ritual and your night spent playing that song over and over again had been part of said ritual. They are renting the sound booth and the time slot for Saturday night."

"So they are doing their own show?"

"I'm pretty sure he was trying to say 'y'all need Jesus."'

"So I'm not fired?" Brittany couldn't believe it.

"Not yet. You did bring in money. Not the way I would have done it, but more than Sue has in the last six months." Holly noticed she was getting another phone call. "Shit. It's the Hummel's. I've got to take this. You're still on for tonight, Snowflake, but if I hear that stupid song one more time, I don't care how much money you bring in, I'll make Sue your co-host."

"That would be evil."

"Don't tempt me, hun. Now get out of here before Sue takes her break to come flay you alive." Holly picked up the call. "Mr. Hummel! It's so nice of you to call! Oh you caught our most recent show? Exciting stuff, huh?"

Brittany lingered in the hallway and waited to hear the bits and pieces of Holly's conversation. The Hummel's call couldn't be anything good. Brittany could only imagine that Hummel's Bed and Breakfast would cancel their advertisements and sponsorship.

"You want to do what?" Holly asked in disbelief. Her eyes darted to Brittany. "Sure, I'll tell her."

* * *

><p><em>9:41 am<em>

Santana didn't know if she should help or if she should disappear. Since Sue had taken back the radio show, the phone lines to Hummel's Bed and Breakfast hadn't stopped ringing. It wasn't her fault that DJ Snowflake had dedicated _The Chipmunk Song _to her over and over again. More importantly, neither Kurt nor Burt knew she was Scrooge. Yet knowing they were ignorant of her unintentional involvement, did little to alleviate the guilt Santana felt as she started to walk up the stairs.

"Yes! This is Hummel's Bed and Breakfast, the perfect place to rest your head." Kurt answered yet another phone call.

Burt walked through the parlor with two different phone receivers in his hands. "Yes, we did sponsor the night ads. We had nothing to do with the morning sho- yes, we did hear that our name was attached- you want to do what?"

The Hummel's continued to pace in their respective areas.

"You liked the show?" Kurt stuttered in shock on the other line. "You thought it was about time someone put Sue in her place?"

"You want to know availability for rooms in January?"

Santana retreated upstairs. Whatever she had done to trigger DJ Snowflake had set the town buzzing and she wasn't sure she wanted any part of it. She inserted the gold key into the Rachel Barbra Berry master suite and for the first time since she had started her stay in Midtown, Santana was almost relieved to see Rachel's portrait faces…almost…

Santana collapsed on the bed before the portraits could wig her out. Maybe she needed to take a break from the late nights at the town hall with DJ Snowflake. Clearly, they weren't good for her or the rest of the town.

* * *

><p><em>10:11 pm<em>

"Welcome back to another late night run with Santa's favorite Late Night Christmas Show and your favorite host – DJ Snowflake!"

"I'm sure that by now you've heard about this morning's…" She looked to Holly through the glass for the appropriate word. "…activities between myself and Sue from the morning show. I am supposed to formally apologize for taking over a portion of her block, but since I _seriously_ doubt she's even listening, I'm just gonna skip right over that and tell you that I will not be on the show tomorrow. So make sure you get your fill of Christmas songs and joy before I go off the air tonight because-"

Brittany checked Holly once more. "- I don't know when I'll be back..."


	13. December 13th

**Sorry about the delay posting! I had a pretty crazy weekend – half of it was spent very sick. So I am posting both yesterday's and today's posts tonight. We will be back on track. I'm sure all of you will forgive once you read. :D**

* * *

><p><strong>DJ Snowflake and Scrooge<strong>

_**December 13**_  
><em>6:59 pm<em>

"Could I get you something to drink? A hot chocolate? Coffee?"

Santana pushed her glasses back over her head and looked up from stack of documents she had been leafing through. Burt stood over the table with a smile.

After falling asleep in the town records and coming back to chaos at the bed and breakfast, Santana didn't feel like returning to the town hall. She had more than enough boxes to go through from Kurt's chronologically separated Rachel Berry boxes. But she didn't feel like spending the night surrounded by Rachel Berry's eyes judging and looking down on her in that room.

Santana looked at the old clock on the wall. She had been working down here for hours. It had been draining to sort through all of the Rachel Berry boxes to come up with essentially nothing that would help the Hummel's.

Music from the radio filled in the space of her thoughts and Burt's question. It had been Christmas music for most of the afternoon with heavy overtones of Christian rock – _Angels We Have Heard on High, People Look East, Silent Night, O Little Town of Bethlehem_, etc. The man hosting the radio today had a monotone voice and the appeal of a rock. He was somehow worse than Sue in the morning. At least she could be amusing when she tore down the government officials, bagel shops, education programs, and bitched about whatever had agitated her at that particular moment.

And of course, he was nothing like DJ Snowflake. In fact, he continued to mention that he would be continuing through the night. Santana could only imagine the chaos DJ Snowflake caused all because Santana had told her to play _The Chipmunk Song_ as much as she wanted.

In a way, it felt strange to work without the DJ's incessant chatter about snowflake patterns or elf shoes or how much she loved every single song she played.

Screw it.

"You know –" Santana placed her pencil down. "I need a drink."

Burt's face changed from concerned to amusement. "Now that's a request I would be more than happy to fulfill."

Santana packed up the box of Rachel Berry trinkets, paperwork, and memorabilia from the box labelled "1961". She had been working nonstop all day and had gotten nowhere. She needed a break.

When she looked back up, it wasn't Burt coming over with a bottle of wine, but Kurt, and he sported a devious smile.

* * *

><p>"Okay. Wait." Santana took another sip of her wine. "You and Mercedes were rivals in high school?"<p>

"Not just rivals – mortal enemies."

"Well, you're both drama queens."

"Honey-" Kurt quirked an eye brow and tipped back the rest of his wine glass. "-we prefer the term diva."

Santana rolled her eyes. "If I would have known she had a mortal enemy waiting to put her in her place back home, I would have invited you to visit while we at university together. She would have had someone else to fight with."

"Ha! You wouldn't have been able to handle us both." Kurt stated as fact. Santana didn't have a reason to argue with him. He leaned back in his chair and pensively looked her over. Santana returned his look. She had never backed down from anyone, but she didn't know the reason he stared. "Why are you doing this? You don't have to spend your December here."

Santana dropped her gaze to her wine and met his stare. She felt a little light-headed from the wine and from laughing. "Mercedes and I have been through a lot. She was there when I came out. She was there when I couldn't go home and when I didn't know what I was doing. She's family – the real kind and apparently you mean a lot to her so-"

"Kurt!" Burt called over from the parlor.

Regretfully, he broke Santana's gaze to answer his father. "Yes?"

"Can you do a walkthrough before our guests arrive?"

"Of course." He turned back to Santana and their wine bottle. "Well – She's always been part of our family so in a way, that makes you part of our family too. It's been nice to have someone else here even if we barely see you during the day. As long as the Hummel name is on that sign, you will always have a place to stay." Santana flushed. She hadn't meant to say anything revealing or be invited to spend as much time as she wanted at the bed and breakfast. She hadn't been looking for companionship or kindness. Kurt stood up and handed the half-empty wine bottle to her. "You can finish this without me?"

Santana gratefully accepted the bottle and stood up from the table with her wine glass and tipped it in his direction. "It'll be such a hardship."

Kurt followed his father into the parlor and walked upstairs. Santana swirled the wine around in her glass and walked to the back of the bed and breakfast's first floor. She approached the large glass doors that overlooked a very small courtyard in the back. Snowflakes gently drifted down and blanketed the old bench, stone path, and trees with a soft layer of fresh snow. It was the first time she had taken a moment in the common area of the bed and breakfast. It was nice, the kind of nice that Santana didn't get to enjoy in her apartment in the city.

An insistent vibration in her back pocket distracted her from admiring the view. She pulled her cell phone from her back pocket and couldn't believe she found a place to get service.

"Hello?"

"Santana? Hi. It's Terri Schuester. I've been trying to get you for a few days."

"Yeah sorry." Santana couldn't believe her boss had been trying to reach her. "I'm kinda in the middle of nowhere. You caught me at a good time."

"Good. Good. I just wanted to let you know that we will be finishing the renovations early. I know you wanted to know the date. You can come back to work next week."

"Next week? So soon?"

"Yes." She paused. "I thought you'd be excited. You said you wanted to know right away when you could come back to work."

"Right. No, I did. Thanks. I can't wait to be back." Santana quickly answered.

"Good. Give me a call next Thursday. We can arrange a time to meet next weekend and I can give you a new card to get into the archives."

Santana turned from the glass doors and looked back at Burt. He was fluffing a pillow on the sofa in the parlor. He turned the dial of the radio up just a little louder and stoked the fire with a poker. "Sure. I'll give you a call on Thursday."

Santana ended the call with her boss and tipped back her wine glass once again.

* * *

><p><em>9:59 pm<em>

"Come on, Holls. It's gonna be so much fun."

"Britt, I agreed to drive you out here and check it out. I am not going to spend the night and I'm definitely not going to spend the night if we are sharing a room." Holly rolled her eyes and opened the door. She didn't miss a beat talking. "I spend far too much time listening to the sound of your voice at night. I don't need to roll over and hear about how frisky the elves are tonight while I spoon you."

"Who says I'd let you be the big spoon?" Brittany turned into Holly and loosened her scarf from around her neck.

Ever the flirt, Holly laughed at Brittany's boldness. "Hun, I think you're forgetting who's whose subordinate."

"You're so bossy, boss, but maybe that's only in the sound booth. We'll never know who the big spoon is if you leave me here all by myself." Brittany tossed her hand in the air, and looked around Hummel's Bed and Breakfast. She had thought the place was empty, but it wasn't. A woman in the far room met her eyes with curiosity and surprise as if she too hadn't been expecting to see anyone else. Brittany stopped talking and extended her smile to the woman.

Perhaps that surprised the woman even more.

Burt exited from the storage room next to the reception area and parlor. "Welcome! Welcome!"

Brittany never had a chance to see if the woman smiled back. He ushered Brittany and Holly into the parlor and started taking off their coats.

"I'm so excited that you accepted my invitation to come to visit the bed and breakfast. I think after the other night, you can really get a feel for what we have here. It'll make for better advertising."

"Of course." Holly answered him. "How could we refuse a night to stay at one of our favorite businesses? And we were so lucky that a block cleared tonight so we could come."

Burt glanced to the radio playing in the parlor with a small frown and looked back at Brittany. "I will say, it's a little strange not to hear your voice on the radio, but-" He hung their coats on the rack near the door. "-this is even better. I'm sure you're excited to get to your room. I know it's a little late, but if me or my son can get you anything, just let me know."

He walked into the backroom.

The moment he walked away, Brittany turned back to Holly. "Come on, Holls. Don't leave me all night. Just stay."

"Oh, Britt, you have no idea what you're asking for." Holly's voice pitched up and down at the challenge, but she was already smiling. She had spotted the bar. "Fine. I'll stay for a while, but you're gonna have to work on your game if you ever want to get me in bed."

"You know I like challenges."

"Here are your room keys." Mr. Hummel returned from the backroom and handed over two elegant gold keys.

"How fancy." Holly took her key and wiggled her eyebrows in Brittany's direction. "So, Mr. Hummel, of Hummel's Bed and Breakfast, how easy would it be to open that bar up that I saw in the corner for us?"

"For you?" Burt laughed. "I'll have my son come out right away."

"Good! Cause that's where we'll be!"

Holly grabbed Brittany's hand and yanked her toward the bar. Within minutes, Kurt unlocked the liquor cabinet and began pouring them shots and mixing them drinks.

"Let's cheers to Sue." Brittany took the tequila bottle and grabbed two shot glasses from behind the counter and poured it out.

"Really? We're gonna go there?" Holly took the shot glass from Brittany's hand with a smirk.

"Well I mean we could toast to the door she destroyed."

"All of it was your fault."

"Details, Holly, details." Brittany said with an obnoxious smile. She tapped Holly's shot glass and threw back the liquor. When she opened her eyes, she found the other woman in the bed and breakfast once again staring back at her. This time instead of smiling, Brittany threw her a wink before she turned back to Holly. "Alright, let's get in the holiday mood. Kurt!"

Kurt popped out from behind the bar counter.

"Do you have anything peppermint back there? I want my mouth to taste like a candy cane." Britt spun in her chair and noticed the record player. "And let's put on some Christmas music. Do you mind?"

"No. Go ahead! It's kinda your thing anyway, right?" Kurt found a bottle of Rumplemintz.

"Technically, I'm off tonight." Brittany approached the old record player and sorted through their assortment of records on the shelf. She found the Carpenters _Christmas Portrait_. The record spun in her hands a few times before she lifted the needle and placed it on the turntable.

_It came upon a Midnight Clear_  
><em>That glorious song of old<em>

"Now where's that shot?" Brittany returned back to the bar to a laughing Holly.

"You just can't help yourself can you?"

"I think we proved that yesterday." Brittany threw the shot back.

* * *

><p><em>11:11 pm<em>

Santana didn't know why she still stayed in the common room. She didn't know why she continued to sip so casually at her wine and read her notes. She could have easily taken her notes and the bottle of wine upstairs – even if the thought of sharing her notes with Rachel Berry was less than appealing.

Kurt continued to pour drink after drink for the two blonde women. She flipped over a page of her notes and took another sip of her wine but it was empty.

She went to pour herself another glass, but the bottle was empty too. Santana rolled her eyes at the situation.

Laughter erupted through the room once again. Santana half-glanced up to see the two women giggling close together at something. Santana looked down at her notes and again to her cell phone. No messages. No missed calls. No anything.

Fuck it.

She started to gather her papers.

Clink.

Santana looked up.

Kurt sat a drink down in front of her.

"I didn-"

"I know you didn't." Kurt said with a secret smile. "She did."

He tilted his head back toward the two blondes at the bar, but only one of them met her gaze. It was the same woman who had thrown her a wink earlier in the night. Santana pursed her lips and contemplated the drink Kurt had set down and then back to the woman.

She lifted her glass in Santana's direction. Normally, Santana ignored drinks given to her at bars, as they were generally sent her way to provide someone with an opportunity to start a conversation with her. Most times it was from a man who couldn't take a hint.

But…

She couldn't remember the last time a woman had sent a drink her way and so brazenly.

Santana touched the rim of the glass with her pointer finger and debated whether she would accept the drink. While she hadn't been listening to all of their conversation, Santana had gathered the blondes had come together and were sharing a room.

Maybe not everyone and everything in this town was as quaint and boring as it seemed.

Santana lifted the glass and took a sip while maintaining eye contact with the blonde. The other woman smiled, obviously pleased Santana had accepted, and turned back to her companion.

Peppermint.

Peppermint and chocolate.

Santana set the glass down and opened her notes back up. Maybe she could stay for a few more minutes.

"Oh. Come on, Holls."

"Baby girl, you know how I would love to stay, but you're not the only one with the night off."

Santana looked up from her notes and set her glasses back down on the table to watch the two women.

"My ride for the night is here and it's gonna be a _really_ needed and _really _long ride, if ya know what I'm talking about." The door to the bed and breakfast opened once more. A man in a leather jacket and a self-important smile on his face entered. He looked around and immediately spotted the two women.

"You ready to go?" He asked without introducing himself or addressing anyone else in the bed and breakfast.

"I am soooooooo ready." She shouted to the man, but not before she turned back to the woman who had sent Santana the drink. When she leaned over she didn't even bother to mask her voice or her intention. "Have fun tonight."

For the first time since they had entered the bed and breakfast, she looked Santana's way, kissed the other woman's cheek, gathered her purse, and left the bed and breakfast with the man.

Confused, Santana shook her head. Maybe everyone in this town _was_ just as strange as she thought they were.

She finished the peppermint drink and once again started to gather her papers to head to bed now that she had no excuse to continue lingering in the common room.

Clink.

At the sound, Santana waved her hand in the air and continued gathering her papers. "No, Kurt, I'm good. I was just heading up to bed."

But it wasn't Kurt who answered her. "That's too bad to hear."

Santana looked past the alcohol and up to two bright blue eyes and the same smile Santana remembered when the woman had first walked in.

"Hi." Her smile only brightened. "I was wondering if maybe this time we could share the drink together."

Santana glanced down to the glass once more and then back to the smiling woman. Kurt's eyes were on the two of them as he intensely cleaned the bar counter with a rag in the same spot a thousand times. Santana looked her up and down. She wore a light blue sweater and tight fitting jeans. Her hair hung loose and framed her face, but it was that smile that Santana couldn't dismiss. Even if they had been in a crowded area or out at a bar, this woman would have been impossible to miss.

Yet, Santana narrowed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. She pushed her paperwork to the side and tilted her head up.

Without mincing any words, Santana asked. "So what happened to your girlfriend?"

"My girlfriend?"

"The other blonde." Santana confidently suggested.

"She's not my girlfriend. Not even close. She's my boss."

"Oh I just thought-" Santana took pride in her ability to read people. That had been unexpected. "-I just thought because you were sharing a room that you two were maybe – you know…together…"

Smooth Lopez. So smooth. She ducked her head and desperately ran through various excuses that she could make to excuse herself and retreat to her room for the night or forever. This was her first interaction with a woman who wasn't Mercedes or that crazy gas station clerk, Sugar. She had spent the last few nights fighting with a radio DJ because she was so desperate to talk to anyone at night and here she was – fucking it up.

"Don't worry about it. It's an easy mistake." Brittany could barely repress her smile as her newfound bar companion fumbled over her words. She took a long sip of her drink to mask her amusement. "But since you were eavesdropping on our conversation, maybe you could spare me a few minutes to talk. That way you don't have to listen from afar."

Santana huffed out a breath of air, unsure how she had gotten herself in this predicament, but she was caught.

"Fine." She slid the chair out across the table with her boot. "I guess I owe you that much."

"Brittany." She offered her hand.

"Santana."

"Santana…" Brittany took the chair across the table and repeated her name. "I like that. I've never met a Santana before."

"Well I've met a few Brittanys before." Santana stated as a matter of fact.

Whether that answered amused Brittany or not, it was hard to tell, as her smile never seemed to fade. "But you haven't met any from around here."

"How do you know?"

Brittany smirked. "I know everyone in town and I would definitely remember a Santana, especially one like you."

Her eyes dropped to the paperwork Santana had been working on with curiosity. "So what brings you to town, Santana?"

"I'm a…" Santana searched for the word. "…a consultant for the bed and breakfast and I've been working at the town hall for the mayor's aide."

"For Mercedes?"

Santana stopped sipping her drink. "Yeah…how do you know Mercedes?"

"I told you…" Brittany's eyes sparkled with delight. "I know everyone."

"So do you make it your job to know everyone?" Santana questioned over the rim of her glass.

"No…" Brittany's answer played in the air. "But it's my job to make sure everyone knows me. It goes hand in hand."

"That's an interesting job." Santana teased. She could feel the heat from the schnapps in her cheeks, but she tried not to let it show that the alcohol had an effect on her.

"Probably not as interesting as being a consultant to the mayor's aide and working on important -" Brittany leaned over the table. Santana pulled her hand back when she felt blonde strands of hair brush against the backside of her hand. Brittany pushed aside some of the papers to read them. "- national registry bulletins and forms." She looked up with curiosity. "So you're here to check out some of the history in town?"

"Something like that, but more for this bed and breakfast."

"There's a lot of history in town." Brittany offered and looked her directly in the eyes. "I just didn't think there was anything out here." She looked around the bed and breakfast, but her eyes found Santana's again almost immediately. "Maybe I would have made a trip to visit earlier."

Santana followed Brittany's eyes around the bed and breakfast. Snow still fell outside the window. They were surrounded by trees in the middle of nowhere. "There's nothing out here."

"I'm not so sure about that." Brittany leaned closer once more. Once again, Santana could feel her hair on the back of her hand, but this time she didn't pull back.

Santana swallowed hard and tilted her head, unsure if Brittany was actually flirting with her. Sure, a woman could buy another woman a drink, especially when they were the only ones drinking in a bar. They could even talk – talk close together, but they were in the middle of nowhere and Brittany had been here with that other woman. What were the chances that the most attractive woman Santana had ever seen, would wander into some random bed and breakfast, and be bold enough to flirt with her? It not only seemed unlikely, but the kind of gay wishful thinking that only led to crushes on straight girls and disappointment.

Yet with every word Brittany spoke, Santana tasted the peppermint schnapps in the air between them. She licked her own lips. Chocolate peppermint. Brittany had given her the same drink she had been drinking.

Brittany's eyes dropped as if she could read Santana's mind. She bit her bottom lip and smiled. The clock on the wall chimed. Santana glanced up. It was midnight. Her glass was empty and she wasn't sure where this was heading. She was only in town for at the most, another week. "Looks like I've finished my drink."

Brittany ignored Santana's observation. "How long are you going to be in town?"

"A few more days." Santana felt the heat in her cheeks building. Brittany had yet to pull back.

"Will you be here the whole time?"

"Sometimes. I normally work late hours."

"Me too." Brittany said. "But I'd really like to see you again."

"You would huh?" Santana met the woman's eyes.

"Can I give you my number?" Brittany asked, but took the pencil from Santana's note pad before she could answer. She turned it around and scribbled into the margin of Santana's notes. "You don't have to call, but maybe if you're bored and here by yourself, I could come and entertain you."

"Maybe I will call." Santana didn't look down, but she could distinctly hear the scratch of the lead on the paper. Each stroke sent a ripple of excitement through her body. Fuck. She held Brittany's gaze and smiled softly to herself. "You're lucky that I like the sound of your voice."

Brittany smirked to herself as if Santana had said the funniest thing. "Good. So maybe I'll hear from you soon?"

Santana gathered her notes, her notepad, and put her fingers around Brittany's to take back her pencil. She stood from the table, still unable to contain her smile. "Maybe…"

Santana walked away from the table and through the common room. She didn't look back until she reached the Rachel Barbra Berry master suite. The key stuck in the door harder than usual, but she finally threw open the doors to the suite, smiled to herself and looked down at her notepad:

_Brittany_

_570-953-4213_

Damn.

Maybe she should have spent more nights working at the bed and breakfast. Tonight's company had been infinitely better than Doris's quilting magazines.

She looked up to a set of eyes staring right back at her.

"Fuck!"

Rachel Berry's portrait stared straight through her from across the room over the mantle. She rolled her eyes. She put down her notepad, pulled back the duvet and covers and got ready for bed. She turned off the nightstand light and got into her bed. Moonlight filtered in through the window and illuminated the mantle portrait of Rachel. Santana covered her face with one of her pillows to block out her view.

"Shut up, Berry."

Santana whispered into the pillow, but not even the creepy portraits of Rachel Berry could make her stop smiling.

This had been the best night since she arrived in this god forsaken town.


	14. December 14th

**DJ Snowflake and Scrooge**

_**December 14**_  
><em>7:03 am<em>

"Santana?"

Kurt did a double take on the stairs. Santana flashed him a smile as she walked by. She wore a dark red sweater, jeans, and black boots. Her hair hung in soft curls around her face.

"Good morning, Kurt."

"Good morning?" He said like a question and stared at her.

She felt his eyes and turned back. "What?"

"It's just I've never seen you up this early."

"Oh." Santana said as if deciding if her behavior was something out of the ordinary. "Yeah. I guess I just wanted to get an early start for the day."

"Well it's the first time you'll actually make breakfast. My dad is downstairs in the common room. We have eggs, bacon, and scrapple."

"As long as there's coffee…" Santana glanced down around the bannister and tried to get a better view of the common room.

Kurt followed her gaze and smiled to himself. He could only imagine who Santana was hoping to see.

"There's always coffee, Santana." He reminded her and continued to walk upstairs to put new linens in the rooms.

She continued down the stairs, but only found a smiling Burt waiting for her.

"Morning, Santana!" He welcomed her with a cup of coffee on the table and a smile. "It's nice seeing you up so early."

"Yeah, I was hoping to see um-" She looked around, but there was no one else in the common room.

"To see um?" He teased. "What you're looking for doesn't happen to be tall, blonde, and have long legs?"

"No." Santana immediately blurted, but took it back. Quietly, she asked. "Did she come down yet?"

"She got a call from her boss earlier this morning. An emergency came up at work. She had to leave."

"Oh." Santana sat down at the table and fingered the handle of her coffee. Fuck. Now what was she going to do?

* * *

><p><em>7:07 am<em>

"There's my ladykiller." Holly teased. "So did you fill that extra space in your bed for the night? I knew you wouldn't need me to keep you company."

Brittany smiled and walked into her boss's office. "No, but I gave her my number."

"And you didn't get hers?"

"I-" She paused. "-didn't think about that. What if she doesn't call?"

"Do you really think she wouldn't? Please. She'll call. You guys were making eyes all night. What's her name?"

"Santana."

"Santanaaa." Holly repeated the name with a smirk. "Hot."

Brittany blushed a little and leaned against the doorframe. She sighed with a soft smile. "Yeah. Really hot." Brittany straightened up when she realized she was practically drooling. "What did you need me for?"

"Business. We have a meeting with Mr. Motta of Motta's Automotive."

"Why? And we? What are you talking about? What could he want with us?"

"No idea, Britt, but he wanted to meet with us immediately."

* * *

><p><em>8:19 am<em>

"Santana? What are you doing here?" Mercedes questioned.

"Why do people keep asking me that?"

"It's just…" Mercedes checked the time on her phone to make sure. "Early."

"Yeah." Santana took a sip of Mercedes's coffee from her desk. "Whatever. I'm just up early."

"You – Santana Lopez – you're _just up early_." Mercedes repeated Santana's own words and narrowed her gaze. "Sure."

"Why is no one ever here when I'm here?" Santana looked back down the hall to the empty offices.

"Because they are all getting ready for the Annual Tree Lighting ceremony tomorrow night. We've got vendors to get in place, sponsors to please, traffic to organize, and speeches to write. We have to check the ground breaker and test the lights so we don't blow anything." Mercedes rattled off a few more things she had to do, but she realized that Santana wasn't listening. She was looking at something on her phone. Mercedes measured her up once. "Santana…"

"Hmm?"

"What's her name?"

"What?" Santana snapped her head up from her phone. "Who?"

"What – is – her – name?" Mercedes cocked her head.

"What? No." Santana shook her head. "Nothing. No one."

"Santana, you're acting as if I don't know you." Mercedes put her hand on her hip. "Fine. You don't have to tell me her name, but you can't stand here all day. Either you tell me her name or you can come help me put together the tree ceremony."

"What? That doesn't even make sense. There's nothing to tell and I'm definitely not going to some stupid ceremony for lighting a tree." Santana picked up Mercedes coffee cup and started to leave the office.

Mercedes didn't even bother to ask for her cup back. She knew it was gone. She did, however, like getting the last word in.

"Santana." She called down the hallway. "She might not have a name, but I can guarantee you that everyone in town will be there tomorrow night."

Santana's boots stopped on the hardwood floor and she paused for a second before she flipped Mercedes and kept walking. "There's no one!"

"So I'll see you tomorrow! It starts at six!"

* * *

><p>"Mr. Motta, welcome to WMHS 97.3 studios." Holly took the business man's hand. He wore a sharp suit and a sharper tie. He looked over the office with one quick sweep and met the eyes of Brittany in the back of the room with scrutiny.<p>

"Let's skip the formalities." He kept his eyes on Brittany. "You're the one they call DJ Snowflake, right?"

"So you're a fan?" Brittany stepped forward and took his hand.

"Absolutely not." He shook his head. "But unfortunately my daughter can't stop talking about you and what she calls her OTP Scrooge. In fact, she's spent the past two days moaning and wailing because you've been taken off the air and you're never coming back."

"Well that isn't tru-"

"Yes!" Holly jumped in and cut Brittany off. "Yes, DJ Snowflake has been taken off the air. It's been due to a lack of sponsorship and money. We just can't afford to keep her on the air."

"Well-" He reached into his jacket. "What's it going to take to keep her on the air? Do you have any advertising packages?"

"What?" Brittany's eyes widened. "You're going to run ads?"

"That's how it works right?" He bent over Holly's desk and started to write the check. "I pay you for ads, you stay on the air, this Scrooge person comes back, and my daughter leaves her room and stops talking about the whole thing, right?"

"Yes." Holly nodded emphatically. "That's exactly how it works."

"Wait." An idea formed quickly. Brittany held a hand up to stop him from completing the check. "You know what would seal the deal, Mr. Motta?"

"What's that?"

"Yes, Brittany, what _are_ you talking about?" Holly twisted her neck to figure out why Brittany was going to derail a legitimate business from running ads with the radio station.

"Give your daughter something to look forward to. She thinks I'm off the air forever. Why don't you tell her that you are going to sponsor DJ Snowflake's return at the Annual Tree Lighting ceremony tomorrow? That would not only make her happy, but it would give her a reason to get out of the house."

His pen paused in midair.

Holly's expression changed instantly from worry to excitement. She leaned behind Mr. Motta's body and threw Brittany two thumbs up.

* * *

><p><em>11:07 am<em>

"No, this is _not_ a false alarm. I just got off the phone with my dad and it's happening. DJ Snowflake is going to be there and there are already rumors that Scrooge is going to make an appearance." Sugar knelt on the floor with a tube of paint. She curved the brush into a D and started to make the J.

"What rumors?" The voice on phone line asked. "Did you make these rumors up?"

"No..." Sugar stated, but then smiled as she completed the word Snowflake. "Maybe…but DJ Snowflake is definitely going to be there. My dad is paying for the whole thing. So make sure you have your sign in case Scrooge makes an appearance."


	15. December 15th

**Scrooflake or Snooge? I'm craughing! Hahahaa yessss best shipping names ever! Thank you! :DDD I'm tempted to change the name of the fic to Scrooflake and Snooge: The Christmas Series.**

* * *

><p><strong>DJ Snowflake and Scrooge<strong>

**December 15**  
><em>5:01 pm<em>

"Let's get a sound check in soon. I don't want this to happen at the last minute and find out that we are broadcasting static." Holly snapped her fingers at the sound crew

"Or broadcasting _The Chipmunk Song_ for the thousandth time." One of the crew snickered into his wires.

"Yeah. Let's avoid that. I don't want to start a mob at the tree lighting." Holly heard his comment and smiled good-naturedly. Maybe she should have been annoyed that WMHS 97.3 was the butt of a few holiday jokes involving chipmunks, but she had just cashed Mr. Motta's check and revised their advertising schedule. Mr. Hummel and his son were so pleased with their visit to the bed and breakfast that they confirmed they wanted to keep running ads until Christmas Eve.

She looked over at her little snowflake.

Brittany stood behind the mobile DJ soundboard and dashboard. She had been winding the same wire in her hand over and over again. Holly approached her from behind, but Brittany never noticed. She just kept wrapping the wire over and over again. Her blue eyes scanned the town square from the platform. The town square was filled with people moving around, spreading thick blankets on the lawn, holding cups of hot chocolate, playing games that had been set up around the perimeter, standing in food lines paid for by the town government, and laughing. A group of carolers walked around singing songs. There was a long line for Santa Claus underneath the great tree in the center of the square. He was laughing merrily at every wish whispered into his ear with a hearty HO-HO-HO. Children laughed and danced around merrily.

Holly waited to see if Brittany would find what she was looking for, but it never came. She just continued to circle the wire around her arm.

"Britt…"

Distracted, Brittany half-answered. "Yeah?"

"I don't think you can wrap that wire any tighter, hun."

"What?" Brittany looked down at her hands and immediately stopped. "Yeah."

"Nervous about tonight?" The crowd kept growing. More and more people filtered into the town square with their loved ones, children, and grandparents.

Brittany turned back with a smile. "When have I ever been nervous?"

"Just checking." Holly shrugged, but continued to smirk. "So do you think she'll show?"

"I don't know. She said she works late nights and I didn't invite her. I really should have gotten her number. Do you think she'd know about the ceremony?"

"We are talking about Scrooge, right?" Holly could hardly contain her amusement. "Because that's who DJ Snowflake is getting paid to talk to tonight."

"Oh. Right." Brittany blinked hard and completely refocused on setting up the DJ booth. "I'll make sure I dedicate a song to her and everything to draw her out. Even if she doesn't show, that should be enough to satisfy Mr. Motta's daughter and keep her happy which seems to make him happy."

"And get us paid!" Holly finished Brittany's thought by brushing the tips of her fingers together in the classic and universal sign for making money. "I knew there was a reason I didn't fire you."

"Oh I'm sure you had this planned the whole time."

"Britt, darling, I never plan when it comes to you. I just count on you being you. And you've haven't let me down yet. Now, let's get this booth up and running. I want everything ready for when my girl Mercedes comes by."

* * *

><p><em>5:47 pm<em>

"Hey." Mercedes flashed her boyfriend a toothy smile and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

Sam pulled back with a grin. "Hi."

"Glad you came."

"Of course! I wouldn't miss the return of DJ –" He stopped and readjusted his words. "I wouldn't miss the tree lighting ceremony for anything in the world."

"Did you hang up all the flyers? I saw a few on Main Street, but did you get the rest up?"

"You know I did."

"Thanks, babe. You're the best. It's been so crazy getting everything organized and with the last minute addition of the radio station, nothing's been going as planned." Mercedes glanced to her phone. "And now Santana is calling. I'm sure she's lost, annoyed, or getting into a fist fight with a Santa Claus actor. For the sake of our town volunteers, I hope it's not the last option." Mercedes leaned over and kissed him again. "I'll catch up with you later. Is that okay?"

"I'll be fine. You just keep being superwoman. I'm sure I can figure out something to do."

The PA system hooked up through the town square crackled to life.

Sue' Sylvester's voiced echoed through the gathering. "_Good evening, Midtown."_

Everyone stopped moving. Both Mercedes and Sam looked up. Mercedes released a soft sigh of relief to hear the sound system working.

"_I said – Good evening, Midtown."_

"Good evening, Sue." The town responded to the call like they were children in a fourth grade classroom.

Mercedes bit her lip and rolled her eyes. It could be worse. It could be worse.

"I got to go."

Sam nodded and shooed her away so Mercedes could take care of Santana. He waited until she walked a good distance away before he pulled out his own cell phone. There was no way Mercedes could know what he was doing.

"_It's come to my attention that some here would prefer the childish and amateur prattling of a snowflake made of sunshine. A oxy-moron if you will-"_ Sue stressed the second half of the word and continued talking. "_But since this show will go past my time block. I welcome you all to The Annual Tree Lighting Ceremony. Hopefully Snowflake won't steal your tree like she tried to steal my booth."_

Sue dropped her microphone and walked off the platform. Unsure what just happened, there were scattered amounts of clapping and confused looks passed between people.

"_Alright! Let's get this holiday gathering started the right way!" _DJ Snowflake's voice boomed from the speaker and instantly dispelled the mood Sue had set. "_Can I get all the kids to come down here to the front of the stage? I need your help singing all of these great songs!"_

_Frosty the snowman was a jolly, happy soul_  
><em>With a corn cob pipe and a button nose<em>

Various voices from children and adults joined the song throughout the town square.

Sam's eyes widened at the sight of DJ Snowflake on the small platform next to the great evergreen tree.

He whispered to himself. "DJ Snowflake's back."

"I TOLD YOU SHE WAS COMING BACK!" Sugar punched his arm from behind. "Now, did you put up the DJ Snowflake posters like I told you to?"

"Of course I did!" He held one out. It was light blue with snowflakes and announced the return of DJ Snowflake to host The Annual Tree Lighting Ceremony. Sam looked over the heads of the crowd as they started to walk toward the staging area, the source of the music.

"And did you bring your sign?" Sugar lowered her voice to a matter of grave importance.

"I did, but I had to hide it in my coat." Sam turned around so Sugar could see the rolled up poster paper tucked behind his back. "I can't let my girlfriend see it or she would never let me listen to the radio before bed again."

"You're such a push over, Evans." Sugar smacked his arm again. "Alright. I need to be front and center just in case Scrooge shows up. I can't wait to live tweet this. Let's move."

She gave him another shove and pushed him directly into the growing crowd.

* * *

><p><em>6:17 pm<em>

"When I say it starts at six, I meant that you should be here at six. You're gonna have a hard time finding a place close to the tree."

Santana rolled her eyes and stuffed her gloved hands deeper into her coat pockets. "You didn't mention this would be outside and there would be Christmas music and children everywhere."

"Santana, it's a tree lighting. What did you expect?" Mercedes didn't buy it for one second. "You just didn't realize how big this celebration is. You know…if you told me her name, I could help you find her."

"Mercedes, I already told you. There's no one. I'm only here because I wanted to see small government in action and see exactly what it is you do."

"Well, you're gonna have to watch from afar because there's no way you are going to make your way through this crowd. Here's Sam's phone number. You can call him if you want to meet up later. I have to get ready for the tree lighting. The mayor needs to be prepped…again."

"Have fun, little Leslie Knope." Santana threw Mercedes a mock salute as her best friend walked away.

She looked down at the number in her hand and stuffed the piece of paper in her pocket. There was only one number Santana cared about and it certainly didn't belong to trouty mouth. She played with the slide on her phone – locked and unlocked it about a dozen times before she slipped her cellphone back into her coat pocket without calling Brittany's number. It would be absolutely lame to call Brittany in the middle of a tree lighting thing. She didn't even know what she was doing here.

_These wonderful things are the things_  
><em>We remember all through our lives<em>

"Come on."

Santana looked down and saw a familiar hand grasp onto her wrist. She looked up. "What, Mercedes?"

"You're so lame, Santana." Mercedes hooked her arm underneath her friend's and led her through the crowd. "And stubborn and you look like a lost sullen puppy."

Indignant, Santana tried to pull her arm back from her friend, but Mercedes resisted. "I don't."

"You weren't going to call Sam, were you? And I know you weren't going to call that mystery girl."

"You don't know that I have her number."

"Oh, but you admit there's a girl now?" Mercedes waited for Santana to realize she had fallen into her trap.

Santana muttered under her breath, but didn't say another word.

"Come on. You can come see small government in action from behind the scenes – just like you wanted." Mercedes pulled Santana back behind a metal gated fence area toward a few tents. People moved out of Mercedes way or approached her with a thousand questions. Mercedes answered every question with a direct and quick answer. She barked orders and asked the whereabouts of people, vendors, and transportation.

Music from the loud speakers continued to play through the PA system. Santana's eyes darted around as they passed by a sound booth. For a second, she could have sworn she saw a tall blonde woman, but when she did a double take, Mercedes continued pulling her through the backstage.

"_I want to thank everyone for coming together to celebrate winter, the season of giving, and a town of blessing." _A voice spoke through the speaker system. _"There are a lot of events and special projects I look forward to every year and yet I don't think I enjoy anything as much as our Annual Tree Lighting Celebration…"_

The voice continued on, but Santana wasn't listening. She looked up and realized how close she was to the tree. Mercedes stood to the side of the platform where she could see the mayor. She silently mouthed the words to his speech in case he would forget anything.

"_But I think I've talked enough, that's why we have a very special host from WHMS 97.3 here to lead you all in a countdown."_

"_Alright, Midtown! I hope you're ready for the most dazzling display of lights to ever light up a tree!"_

Santana paused for a second. There was something about the voice over the loud speaker that sounded both so familiar and so electrifying at the same time. Santana's eyes darted to the back of the sound booth. The woman kept talking but, Santana didn't know why she couldn't place the voice. It tickled memories and a variety of emotions from annoyance, chagrin, and most recently – heat.

Yes. It evoked a wave of heat. One she had felt very recently.

Intrigued, Santana took a step away from the tree to join Mercedes at the side of the platform so she could see the woman talking.

"_I'm going to need everyone to be loud! Really loud! That's the magic of this tree, it can only light up if we all count together. On the count of three!"_

Santana's boots crunched against the cold hard ground of the town square.

"_ONE!"_

She couldn't quite place the voice.

"_TWO!"_

The town shouted in tandem, but Santana could only hear the woman's voice. Santana stepped next to Mercedes, but while everyone looked toward the tree, she faced the stage.

"_THREE!"_

A brilliant explosion of light erupted around her and enveloped the entire town square with colorful lights.

_OOOOOOOOOOOOooooooh Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh_

The town collectively gasped at the sight of the tree lighting. Children pointed excitedly and jumped with admiration.

"_Now __**that **__is a tree lighting. This is DJ Snowflake of WMHS 97.3 broadcasting to you from Midtown's town square where everyone is celebrating winter, merriment, and the season. I'll be taking any requests from the crowd, but if you couldn't make it to the Annual Tree Lighting Ceremony, you can call into the toll free number 1-800-973-WMHS. A big big shout out to our sponsors Hummel's Bed and Breakfast and Motta's Automotives for making sure we have music to sing the night away."_

The crowd in front of the stage surged forward as DJ Snowflake opened for requests. A few signs popped up throughout the crowd from fans of various ages expressing their devotion to the late night DJ.

"DJ Snowflake!"

"Dedicate something to Scrooge!"

"Play _The Chipmunk Song!"_

"DJ SNOWFLAKE I LOVE YOU!"

"WE MISSED YOU!"

"Reenact your fight with Sue!"

The sound of Brittany's laughter gently tickled the PA system and rippled through the town square. "_For old time sake, this one goes out to Scrooge! I hope she's listening and enjoying the holiday spirit. Scrooge, if you're out there, give me a call and I can finally fulfill that song request."_

A remixed version of _The Chipmunk Song_ started to play. The crowd gathered in front of DJ Snowflake's platform went wild cheering. They waved signs that read DJ Snowflake and Scrooge and started to sing along with the chipmunks.

Santana's stomach dropped as DJ Snowflake pulled her headset off and pressed a few buttons on her dashboard. Blonde hair spilled around her shoulders and draped over her soundboard just like it had over Santana's hand at Hummel's Bed and Breakfast.

Fuck.

"Santana?" Mercedes questioned, but her best friend walked faster than her voice.

* * *

><p>Brittany couldn't stop smiling as the crowd went a little crazy. She caught Holly sharing the same excitement. She removed her headphones and walked over to her boss.<p>

"Do you hear that?"

"It's like you have a mini cult following." Holly didn't even sound concerned, mostly thrilled at the idea.

"This is crazy. They are all here because of that fight I had with Sue and – " Brittany's voice cut off. She peered past Holly's head and down the stage. Soft dark curls bounced in the opposite direction of the stage area. When she had thought maybe she would see Santana at the tree lighting, it had been a fool's wish, but Brittany swore to every elf in Santa's workshop, the woman walking away had to be Santana. " – Santana."

Confused, Holly didn't follow. "You mean Scrooge? Because that's the reason these crazy kids are here. They are literally chanting DJ Snowflake and Scrooge."

"Holls, can you do the next song for me?" Brittany disconnected herself from her sound pack and jumped down from the platform. She still had time. She could catch her.

This time she would get Santana's number.

"Santana!" Brittany called after her, but the music must have been too loud. It was some Mariah Carey song blasting through the speakers now that the chipmunks were done.

"Santana! Wait up!"

The dark haired brunette finally turned around, but there was something unreadable in her expression. Taken aback, Brittany flashed her the same smile she had given her at the bed and breakfast and hoped it would jog her memory. "Hi. It's me, Brittany. Remember me? I gave you my number Saturday night. I didn't think I'd see you here. I mean I wanted to, but – "

"Yeah, I remember." Santana shook her head. How in a million years was DJ Snowflake the same woman who had bought her a drink and flirted with her at the bar? Santana didn't know what to think. It was too coincidental – just too perfect for a radio show. She had remembered Kurt said the radio station was failing and trying to drum up ratings somehow. Had Brittany known she was Scrooge when she came onto her the other night? She looked Brittany up and down, but she was impossible to read. "I remember who you are, Snowflake."

At the sound of her nickname from Santana's lips, Brittany's face dropped in instant recognition. Her eyes darted from Santana's mouth to her eyes unsure if she was right, but there was no mistaking it.

"Scrooge?"

* * *

><p>"Evans! If you don't get your ass moving, we are going to miss everything!"<p>

"What could we miss!? You did it! Well your dad did it! We get to have DJ Snowflake back on the air. I can finally fall asleep again."

"Pay attention, Evans! DJ Snowflake ran off in the middle of her song dedicated to Scrooge. Where do you think she could be heading?"

"The bathroom?" Sam suggested.

"Ugh. Amateur." Sugar leaped over the metal fence to the back stage area and quickly ran in the direction she had seen DJ Snowflake go. Her furred boots skid to a sudden stop at the sight of DJ Snowflake standing over a small dark haired woman. They were standing close. Their eyes were so focused on each other that neither one realized they had gained an audience. Sugar pulled back as if she could feel the tension between them. She held her arm out to stop Sam from running forward.

"Wait…" Sugar narrowed her eyes. "That's map lady. What's map lady doing with DJ Snowflake?"

"Who's map lady?" Sam questioned.

"The lady who bought the map, try to keep up, Evans."

"What's she doing?"

"I don't know." Sugar shook her head. The last time she had seen map lady, she had fled rather ungracefully from the Rachel Berry album release at Roz's Golden Pump. "She's definitely not an assassin. She's just kinda grumpy all the time –" Sugar paused. "Oh. My. God. She's grumpy all the time. Scrooge is grumpy all the time. Map lady's grumpy all the time because map lady _**is**_ Scrooge! EVANS!" Sugar grasped the sides of his face and yanked him down to her level. "MAP LADY IS SCROOGE! THAT'S DJ SNOWFLAKE AND SCROOGE!"

"What!? Really!?" Sam could hardly contain his excitement. Since he had started listening to the DJ Snowflake broadcast at night, Sam found he could fall asleep to the sound of the two of them bickering. "I've been waiting for this."

He stripped his heavy coat off and removed the sign he had been hiding and lifted it above his head.

Sugar pointed and screamed. "It's DJ Snowflake and Scrooge!"

Brittany and Santana finally broke eye contact and stared at two people screaming with signs and pointing at them.

But before either group could react, Mercedes stepped out from her tent and in all the commotion, she only saw one thing.

"Sam Evans, what in the hell do you have in your hands?"

The red and green painted letters fell unceremoniously to the ground.

_DJ SNOWFLAKE _  
><em>AND <em>  
><em>SCROOGE<em>


	16. December 16th

**DJ Snowflake and Scrooge**

**December 16**  
><em>1:12 am<em>

"What is wrong with this town?" Santana paced back and forth across Mercedes' bedroom. Santana had fled the town square right before chaos broke out. Despite the yelling and excitement from the crowd, Mercedes had found her best friend. She had driven Santana back to her house in town. "You are all crazy and obsessed with weird things like lighting up trees, Rachel Berry, and -"

Santana didn't even know what to say about Sugar holding that sign next to Mercedes' boyfriend.

"Well if you would have told me even one detail about your mystery girl, I could have told you right away that it was Brittany S. Pierce. Everyone knows who she is. I could have solved that for you in an instant and told you that she was DJ Snowflake." Mercedes answered simply, but her mind was on the other hundred questions she had for Santana. "And what the _hell_ are you doing being Scrooge?"

"Oh! Like I had a choice? Like I _wanted _to be called Scrooge?" Santana threw her hands up. "All I wanted was to listen to some music that wasn't all about Christmas!"

"Santana." Mercedes pressed her pointer fingers to her mouth in exasperation. "I have a Bluetooth player – a cd player – I still have my old boom box from when we were in the dorm together! You could have borrowed them! You didn't have to keep calling into a radio station to be the "scrooge" of Christmas music."

"It wasn't like I had a choice! Bri-" Santana quickly adjusted the name so she didn't have to think about how she just got played by a radio host. "- that Snowflake person wouldn't stop with all the Christmas music and the talking and the elves and the Santa stuff!" Mercedes narrowed her eyes, but allowed Santana to keep talking. "And no one else called into the radio station! I thought I was going crazy and I was the only person who was listening! If I hadn't called in, you probably would have found me talking to a painting of Rachel Berry or something. You have _no_ idea how creepy quiet it is in that room."

"Yeah, but according to - "Mercedes glared at the door as if Sam could feel her ire from upstairs. She would deal with him later. "- Sam you corrected the phone number to Brittany and other callers started to call in. You still called in! _You_ were the one who started the morning show take over! Do you _know_ how many calls I got demanding that I call the National Guard to storm the station to stop that weird chipmunk song? Sue hasn't stopped calling my office to get Brittany banished from town. She says there's a town ordinance from 1843 that's still in effect. It states that if the town council perceives that someone has willfully attempted to damage the mental well-being of the town populace, the council can choose to banish the offender from the town perimeters."

Santana lifted her hands up with exasperation and recognition, but she didn't want to tell Mercedes that she had found that ordinance in the town records last Wednesday and that Sue had a point.

"Why did you keep calling into the station?" Mercedes put her hand on her hip and waited.

"I-" Santana froze, searching for an answer to a question she had never given any thought. "I don't know. It was nothing. I just called."

Mercedes looked her friend over and shook her head. "So what happened between you and Brittany off the air?"

"Nothing. She was at the bed and breakfast and we flirted and she gave me her number." Santana rolled her eyes at herself. "I had no idea she was DJ Snowflake and that all of that -" She waved her hand in the direction of the very visible tree in the center of town. "-would happen."

Santana leaned against the window and breathed on the cold glass with a sigh. She had never been more embarrassed in her life and she had done some really stupid things.

"So what?"

Santana opened her eyes and turned around. She had expected sympathy, outrage, or anything else from Mercedes except indifference. Her confusion must have been evident on her face because Mercedes repeated.

"So what?"

"What do you mean 'so what'? DJ Snowflake is Brittany and I was a puppet for her radio show!"

"Santana, I've known you for a very long time and in all that time, I've never seen you be anyone's puppet."

"But sh-"

"When I saw you the other day, you were practically beaming with excitement. You were even up before 10 am. You can't tell me that was fake. Sure, she's full of tinsel, garland, and peppermint -"

The vivid freshness of the chocolate peppermint drink came back to her. Santana dropped her eyes to hide the way it sent a chill through her entire body. Santana thought about their entire conversation at the bed and breakfast - how easily Brittany had broken any barrier between them, the way her voice tickled the edges of Santana's glass, and how Santana couldn't think of anything except how blue her eyes were.

Before Santana couldn't fathom Snowflake and Brittany as the same person, but her pulse quickened as she remembered Brittany had been so quick in their conversation - challenging and curious to every word Santana said.

Just like Snowflake.

Santana remembered how dull WMHS 97.3 sounded when they took...Brittany off the air.

Fuck.

Mercedes continued talking. "-but clearly that didn't stop you from letting her flirt with you when you didn't even know her name."

"Yeah, but-"

"Did you ever think there was a reason she gave you her personal number unless she wanted you to call her and not the radio station. Why else would she have given that to you?"

Santana closed her mouth and opened it unable to formulate a comeback. "So you think I should just call her?"

"Why not?" Mercedes rolled her eyes. Santana could be so stubborn.

"Because!"

"Santana, I'm gonna break it down for you." Mercedes crossed the room. "That crazed group of fans was there for both of you and clearly, they were right about something because when you didn't even know Brittany was DJ Snowflake, there were sparks flying between you. She's obviously into you. She left in the middle of her own comeback show to chase you down. And let's be real - the girl's got legs." Mercedes teased. "I mean, you could do worse."

Santana rolled her eyes and batted Mercedes back. Everything Mercedes said could be true, but how would she ever know?

Quietly, Santana whispered the gnawing thought that had been eating at her since she accepted Snowflake and Brittany were the same person. "I just don't want to be someone's holiday special."

Before Mercedes could respond, Santana walked away from the window and her friend.

"Can I just spend the night here? I'll sleep on the couch."

"You're staying, but you're not sleeping on the couch." Mercedes bunched the comforter off her bed and grabbed a pillow. She opened her bedroom door and shouted. "Sam! You're sleeping on couch tonight!"

Without waiting for a response, Mercedes threw the bedding down the stairs and closed her door.

* * *

><p><em>10:01 pm<em>

_"Totally caught last night's show. What happened? Where's Scrooge?"_

_"When is Scrooge coming on?"_

_"Hey, DJ Snowflake, I totally thought your show was lame, but my friend told me to come to the tree lighting and it was insane. What's up with you and Scrooge?"_

_"Hi, DJ Snowflake, this is Marissa. I just wanted to know why you weren't taking requests for The Chipmunk Song anymore."_

_"I heard you and Sue were going to have candy cane duel under the holiday tree tomorrow night? Is that true?"_

_"Yo, Snowflake, I saw you run off last night. Tell me the truth. Isn't this whole Scrooge thing a ratings grab? I heard from my grandfather that the radio station is shutting dow-"_

Brittany flipped her finger on the feed and cut off only the latest of callers trying to find out what happened the previous night at The Annual Tree Lighting Ceremony. Their ratings had never been better, but Brittany couldn't shake the way Santana looked at her or the way she had disappeared.

"Britt, babe." Holly's voice echoed in the sound booth. "You can't keep answering the phone and then hanging up on people."

"Sorry, Holly. It's just every time the phone rings, I think maybe it's her and it's not."

Brittany turned her mic back on and ignored her desire to answer all five of the calls waiting to get through. What if one of them was Santana?

"This next song goes out to celebrate the first night of Hanukkah. Happy holidays to all of our listeners!"

_How lucky are we that we have lights so we can see_  
><em>Although the day is done<em>

"Britt, let it go. Clearly, she was a little surprised you were DJ Snowflake, but probably not as surprised as we are that she's Scrooge. I mean like damn, girl! Could you believe that? I'm still not over that she's Scrooge. On the crazy/hot scale, she's high on both sides!" Holly whistled under her breath. "You sure know how to pick'um."

"But she thinks I staged the DJ Snowflake-Scrooge thing." Brittany sighed and looked at her cell phone again. "And all I wanted was her number."

Her mood instantly adjusted as the song came to an end. Without missing a beat, Brittany pushed her headset back into place and leaned forward. "Hello, listener! You're on the air with WMHS 97.3! What song can I play for you tonight?"


	17. December 17th

**Totally shameless plug for other glee hilarity and nonsense I've written, if you'd like to see Sue duel someone in one of my fics, I suggest **_**Lord Tubbington: Private Eye**_**. I love writing Sue. Also a lot of you mentioned you enjoy the Santana/Mercedes friendship, if you want more of that, then definitely check out **_**The Ark: Is It a Crime?**_** Both of those fics are what I would consider ensemble pieces with lots of glee characters in funny situations, similar to this story. **

**Once again, thank you everyone sending reviews or PMs or reblogging the posters on tumblr or just reading. I'm having a great time writing this and reading your reactions. **

**Now we return to…**

* * *

><p><strong>DJ Snowflake and Scrooge<strong>

**December 17**  
><em>11:03 pm<em>

_Last Christmas I gave you my heart_  
><em>The very next day you gave it away<em>

_I'll be home for Christmas_  
><em>You can count on me<em>

_Sir, I wanna buy these shoes,_  
><em>For my mama please<em>

"Okay, Britt. I was fine when you played Wham! It's a classic and it has a nice beat. Really it's a great song – no problem. I was okay when you played that total downer about not making it back for Christmas, but really, Britt? _Christmas Shoes?_ That's what you're going with?" Holly rolled her eyes into the back of her head and groaned obnoxiously. "You're killing me, Snowflake!"

"You don't have to listen." Brittany spoke into her microphone and smashed a button on the dashboard. She had at least five callers on the line and she had a feeling none of them were Santana. The red lights kept blinking, but she hadn't answered a single call yet.

"Brittany, I know you're a little upset about this whole thing, but Scrooge is the best thing that's ever happened to this station. I need you to pull it together, play along with your fans, and answer some calls."

"It's been two nights and all they do is ask for Scrooge."

"So give Scrooge a reason to call!" Holly frantically suggested. "Give the listeners and yourself what you want!"

Brittany glanced down at the red blinking lights once again.

"Caller! You're on the air wit-"

The person on the other line cut Brittany off and immediately asked their question. "_When's Scrooge calling in? My friend said this show's hilarious but all I've heard are Christmas songs and oth-"_

Brittany dropped the call and shot Holly a look of exasperation through the glass window.

* * *

><p>Santana leaned over Doris's desk and furrowed her brow in concentration. It was late, dark, and eerily quiet in the town records. Santana knew her uneasiness had nothing to do with being alone or the fact it was dark. She did that most nights. It was the silence, which she normally penetrated with the sound of the radio, that made her shoulder blades pinch and her mind wander when she wanted to focus.<p>

After the night at Mercedes' house, Santana woke up early in the morning and found her car where she parked it and drove back to Hummel's Bed and Breakfast.

She had ignored Kurt's insistence that he could make her feel better with a cup of special (Bailey's) coffee or that she could talk to him. She had also ignored Mercedes's messages that ranged from compassionate to tough love.

But after a day spent with only the portraits of Rachel Berry as companions, Santana had been going stir crazy. It was much better to work and find a way to register Hummel's Bed and Breakfast. The sooner she found something to give Kurt and Burt, the sooner she could get out of this town.

Santana ran down her handwritten notes on the Hummel's Bed and Breakfast from the 1890s, a few decades before Rachel had been born. But there was no connection she could make between the Berry family and what at the time had been the Hummel's inn. She needed at least fifty years to separate Rachel's significance from present day.

Santana scanned over the documents she printed out for the tenth time: "properties that have achieved significance within the past 50 years shall not be considered eligible for the National Register."

But did it apply to persons of significance? Could Rachel even be considered a person of significance for her Christmas music?

What was so great about Christmas music anyway?

Santana glanced up again to the radio on Doris's desk and frowned. Obviously, she shared a different opinion on the whole matter from the rest of the town. Brittany was probably laughing at her little prank from the lighting ceremony on the air.

Fuck it.

She dropped her pencil to her notepad and leaned across the desk.

"_This is DJ Snowflake and you're rocking to all of your favorite holiday hits until Christmas morning on WMHS 97.3. Now before I get into my next song, I want you to know that I won't be taking any more requests until Scrooge calls in. That way you can all stop asking me what went down at the tree lighting. Let me tell you, nothing went down and it wasn't a gimmick or something we planned at the show. I um-"_

Santana lowered herself back into her chair in complete disbelief. What the hell was Brittany doing?

"_I'm sure you're all wondering how I'm going to know it's Scrooge calling me. Well one time – Scrooge told me that the number I had been giving out to all my listeners was the wrong number. Well I hope she's listening now because only she has the right number to call in now. It's the only number that matters to me. I hope she'll give me a second chance, but until then, I am shutting down all of the call-in numbers to the studio."_

Santana couldn't believe what she had just heard. Brittany wanted to "give her a second chance?" A second chance for what?

All she could remember was the way everyone seemed to know they were DJ Snowflake and Scrooge. And yet it was Brittany who looked more surprised that Santana when Sugar started yelling about DJ Snowflake and Scrooge. Maybe Mercedes had been right? She looked down at her notepad and leafed through the top twenty pages or so until she found what Brittany had scribbled on at the bed and breakfast.

_Brittany_

_570-953-4213_

* * *

><p>Brittany switched her mic off and played the next song.<p>

"Brittany…what are you doing?" Holly quickly asked.

"You said to do something to get Santana to call in."

"I said get Scrooge to call in! That's what the advertisers want."

"I'd rather talk to Santana. We have the advertisers."

"We have two! Only two advertisers. That's enough to make the New Year, but February? March? We need more and lasting advertisers and this is the way to get them."

"Holly – I just can't keep being DJ Snowflake if I know that I ruined someone's Christmas. I don't care if she's Scrooge or not. You should have seen her face." Brittany fiddled with the cord attached to her headset. "I'm sorry, Hol-"

Her pocket started vibrating. Brittany jerked forward in her chair and lost her balance. Her headset tilted over her face and toppled onto her dashboard. She ripped her cell phone from her jeans.

_Unknown_

Brittany looked up at Holly, but without her headset, she couldn't hear what her boss said. Her heart beat a little faster. Did Santana hear her announcement? Had she been listening?

Jingle bells. Brittany dropped her head a little. That meant Santana had probably heard the hundreds of calls about Scrooge the past two nights.

The slide on her phone didn't connect at first. Brittany ran her finger over her phone a dozen more times before it picked up.

Uncertainty and hope interwove into her voice. "Santana?"

"You know...it's not fair that you can say anything you want on the air and I just become some crazy Scrooge lady when I don't call in. Who not only doesn't want to listen to Christmas songs, but now is stopping everyone else from making a request for whatever they want to hear."

Taken aback, Brittany struggled for words to defend herself. "That's not what-"

"Well what else could you have possibly wanted?"

This time Brittany knew exactly how to answer because she knew exactly what she wanted. "I just wanted to talk to you."

The sincerity and quickness in Brittany's answer halted Santana's assault. She paused. It was just enough time for Brittany to try to explain. "I didn't know you were Scrooge or that I would see you at the tree lighting. I mean I wanted to see you. I just wasn't expecting that. I swear on all of Santa's reindeer, I would have done something different."

"Oh like dedicate more songs to me?" Santana bit into Brittany's apology and shook her head. This had been a bad idea. She should have taken Mercedes' offer for a cd player and turned off the radio completely. "I don't even know why I called."

"I don't either, but –" Brittany allowed herself to genuinely smile for the first time since the debacle at the town square. "I'm really happy you did. I didn't want to leave things like we did."

"Oh you mean leave it at the mob of fans screaming your name and running after you - us?" Santana asked with more than a touch of sarcasm. "Because I didn't even know people listened to your ridiculous Christmas talk show until I was fleeing from them."

"Yeah, but _you _listened to it." Brittany lightly teased.

"Because it was the only thing on, Snowflake." Santana quickly snapped and said her name like she would if she was calling to complain about the song selection.

"You know…" Brittany couldn't help her smile. There was something in the way Santana said Snowflake that made it different than the hundreds of times she had been called that the past two days. Her voice had a way of deepening and adding emotions and memories Brittany only shared with her the past two weeks. It felt like a life time. "You can just call me Brittany now."

"I'm not sure what I'm calling you now."

"You can call me anything, as long as you call me again." Brittany suggested.

"I haven't decided if I'm going to do either." Santana threatened, but her tone was much different from when they had started their conversation.

"Hey, could you hold on a second? I need to change the song, but don't hang up, okay?" Brittany waited, but Santana remained silent. "Please, Santana?"

After a moment more of reluctance, Santana simply answered. "Fine."

"That was Amy Grant's _Sleigh Bells_ and now here is Josh Groban singing _Believe."_

Brittany barely gave the song an introduction before she flipped her headset back to the dash and put her cell phone to hear ear again. "Still there?"

"Maybe." Santana answered the same way she had at the bed and breakfast.

"I'm gonna be honest...I pictured you as something totally different."

"You mean you're disappointed that I'm not a nasty old Scrooge woman?"

"I don't know if disappointed is the word I would use for it. I definitely thought you would be crouched over with a scowl on your face. And maybe you would be telling your employees they couldn't go home for Christmas. I definitely didn't think you'd be scrunching your nose taking notes in a bed and breakfast." Brittany smiled playfully. "And I definitely didn't think I'd be trying to get your lips to do more than a song request."

Heat erupted through Santana's body as Brittany instantly switched from playful to direct. Santana hadn't been sure she was going to stay on the line a moment ago. With only a few words from Brittany, Santana couldn't imagine herself hanging up.

"You can think about my lips all you want, but you're still not going to get a song request from them - no matter how many different ways you ask."

The pause between them wrapped around Santana's words. The challenge in the air remained for only a second longer before Santana could silently hear Brittany accept it. Without saying anything, Brittany made it clear she would do anything necessary to get what she wanted. Santana would have been lying if she didn't admit she looked forward to the effort.

Brittany shifted the conversation. "So, you know I have to ask. Why don't you like Christmas?"

"I have to have a reason?"

"You do realize you are the now infamous Scrooge of Midtown? You fought me over every song I played and complained about repeat songs when I only have a limited playlist to work from. There _has_ to be a reason."

"What? I have to have some traumatic childhood experience?" Santana rolled her eyes. "Not everything has some deep back story. I just –" Santana leaned back in her chair and stared up at the ceiling. " – I just haven't had a reason to like it. It's full of hypocrites and shopping and families pretending they're happy. I mean this town's only claim to fame is Rachel Berry, a Jewish girl, who left to make it big on Broadway and instead ended up recording an album for a holiday she doesn't even celebrate and from everything I've learned about her in the past two weeks, she could never shake that label. She was and will always be associated with Christmas. If that's not cruel irony, I don't know what is."

Brittany didn't say anything at first and Santana assumed that she had a revolutionary effect on her. Maybe Brittany had never thought of the terrible cruel joke of Rachel's life.

"Yes, it was pretty ironic how her life worked out, but –" Brittany agreed, but she continued. "-have you read anywhere in all of that research that she complained? Or regretted it? Sometimes I think life likes to throw snowballs at us to see if we're going to duck or if we're going to get hit, laugh, and throw one back. I think it's much harder to take what you're given and transform it into something else. It's definitely a risk."

Santana swallowed hard. The DJ had quite literally stolen away any of her objections to the Christmas season and specifically Rachel Berry. She didn't know Brittany could be so articulate for a woman who spent most of her night saying the same words over and over again: WMHS 97.3, Christmas, song requests, and snowflake. Once again, Brittany had caught her off guard.

Unnerved by the way Brittany had exposed her to a different perception, Santana deflected. "So you're saying people should just enjoy getting hit by a random snowball?"

Whether Brittany knew she had an effect on Santana, she didn't reveal it. Instead Santana could practically feel the way the DJ's mouth curved into a smile on the other end of the phone. "Or a random snowflake."

At Brittany's playful suggestion, Santana rolled her eyes. "I guess I've just never had a reason to enjoy a snowball or a snowflake before."

"Maybe we can change that…" Brittany glanced down to the time. "Give me a second. I need to announce the next song. Okay?"

Brittany couldn't wait for Santana's response. She quickly switched her mic on and projected her voice over the broadcast. "Hope you're enjoying this extra long set of Christmas music brought to you by our sponsor Motta's Automotive! Here is our very own Rachel Berry and her version of O_ Tannenbaum_ from her first Christmas album._"_

She barely switched the song before she had the cell phone back to her ear.

"Santana?"

But nothing came back.

Santana had hung up.

Brittany puffed out a sigh. "Jingle bells."

It was the second time she swore that night.

_Tap Tap_

Brittany looked up. Holly gave her a conciliatory smile. She touched the side of her eye, then placed her finger over her heart before she pointed to Brittany. A soft smile graced Brittany's lips at Holly's attempt to cheer her up. She placed her headset back on her head. "I heart you too, Holls."

"You never know, Britt. She could call back. I think you guys are more electric like that than you are as DJ Snowflake and Scrooge."

"Ha." Britt shrugged it off. "I know you want DJ Snowflake back."

The red light on her dashboard flashed with one caller.

She had promised her listeners that she would start taking requests if Scrooge called in. It was time to keep her promise. Brittany waited until the end of the song before she pressed the button down.

"You're on the air with WMHS 97.3! What song can I play for you?"

"_You're still not going to get a request from me, but maybe I wouldn't mind getting hit by a snowball or a snowflake again."_

The call cut off before Brittany could say another word. Her pout instantly transformed to a smile she couldn't contain. She looked over to Holly who was waving her hands in excitement in her office.

"This next one goes out to everyone looking for second chances and a sign that everything's going to be alright!_" _Her voice once again bounced with joy and energy.

_It's the most wonderful time of the year  
>With the kids jingle belling<br>And everyone telling you "Be of good cheer"__  
>It's the most wonderful time of the year<em>_  
>It's the hap-happiest season of all<br>With those holiday greetings and gay happy meetings_


	18. December 18th

**So it's come to my attention that you are all little balls of fluff and snowflakes in your reviews. I had no idea! ;D**

* * *

><p><strong>DJ Snowflake and Scrooge<strong>

**December 18**  
><em>4:17 pm<em>

Santana sorted through the box labelled '1971'. It was one of the boxes Kurt had brought to her room last week. Santana hadn't gone through it because it wasn't old enough to be relevant to a registry claim, but after her phone call the previous night, Santana had been a little curious about the way Rachel felt regarding her moniker as a Christmas singer. He mentioned it was a tumultuous year for the singer. She had been rejected by a dozen different stages and her label had threatened to drop her if she didn't produce another Christmas album. Santana had leafed through her journal and caught words like: woe, banishment, the audacity of the stage, etc.

Needless to say, Rachel might not have regretted her status as a Christmas singer, but she certainly didn't have a problem throwing a tantrum about Broadway and show business in her journal. To summarize, she was dramatic. Santana closed the book and placed it back in the box. Broadway should have taken her; she would have fit right in.

The sound of the radio from downstairs crept through the cracks under the door. If Kurt wasn't listening to DJ Snowflake at night, he always put on one of Rachel Berry's albums during the day. Her voice seemed to be Santana's constant companion at the bed and breakfast.

_Knock. Knock._

"I'm good, Kurt. I'm still going through your boxes." And before Kurt could ask the question, Santana answered. "And, no, I don't need a topper to my coffee."

Burt hadn't asked her to do a commercial spot on WMHS 97.3 for the bed and breakfast, but Santana could see the question just waiting for an opportunity on Kurt's face every time they spent more than a minute together.

_Knock. Knock._

"It's not time for dinner." Santana glanced to the clock on the mantle beneath one of the Rachel Berry portraits.

_Knock. Knock. _

"You better be hog-tied and gagged right now for not answering me. If you're not, I'll do it myself." Santana closed the lid of the '1971' box and walked to the door. She swung open the door ready to demand why Kurt was so insistent on bothering her.

"Hi."

Brittany leaned with her shoulder pressed into the doorframe and her lips curved in an amused smile. She wore jeans, a light blue sweater and head band with reindeer antlers.

Music filtered into the room.

_Hang all the mistletoe_  
><em>I'm gonna get to know you better<em>  
><em>This Christmas<em>  
><em>And as we trim the tree<em>  
><em>How fun it's gonna be together<em>  
><em>This Christmas<em>

Santana hadn't expected to see Brittany so soon or ever again. She had no idea what had come over her last night. It had been impossible for her to do any work for the rest of the night after their phone call and she had a harder time sleeping when all she could do was think about Brittany's voice.

"Brittany?"

"Expecting someone else?" Like Santana, Brittany had spent the rest of the night taking random song requests and bouncing around in her sound booth. Every time the red light flashed, it was her not-so-secret desire for Santana to be on the other end.

"No. I just-"

Brittany didn't wait for Santana to find an appropriate answer.

"Come on."

"What?" Santana crossed her arms in apprehension.

"Come on. I'm taking you out."

"What?"

"I'm not sure if you're more stubborn on the phone or in real life." Brittany teased and pushed herself away from the door. Without breaking Santana's eye contact, Brittany stepped right into the Rachel Barbra Berry master suite.

Santana would have resisted harder if she didn't feel Brittany's grip on her wrist. She tried not to look down or let on that she was distinctly aware of Brittany's fingers. Santana swallowed and stubbornly met Brittany's advance. "Don't you have a radio show to do?"

Brittany's eyes were sparkling mischievously. Santana had heard that look over the phone when they had talked to each other, but even without the words, it was hard to miss the playfulness skipping through all of Brittany's intentions. "Of course I do, but I still have a few hours and I thought maybe I could save you from being all alone in this – "

Her eyes wandered through the Rachel Barbra Berry room for the first time. She admitted a low whistle, but Santana's wasn't sure if Brittany was genuinely impressed or mocking her bedroom situation. "-bed and breakfast."

Santana didn't to have to answer any – _any –_ questions about the room. She pushed into Brittany to move them back to the hallway. Her knees knocked into Brittany's legs, but instead of doing what Santana wanted, Brittany didn't move.

"Last time we were anywhere together, I was attacked by a mob of your fans."

"That's why I brought you a disguise."

"A disguise?" Santana still couldn't believe Brittany stood at her door, much less follow their conversation.

"Here." Brittany pulled out a long red scarf from her back pocket.

There was something in the way Brittany gently stepped into her body that Santana couldn't resist. The fabric of the red scarf was so soft and smooth against her skin. The slightest touch of Brittany's thumb along the back of her neck jolted her forward. She took a quick breath and tilted her head back so Brittany could loop the material.

Brittany pulled back, pleased with herself. The brilliant red popped against Santana's black sweater. It made Brittany want to look up and meet those dark eyes once again. It was the perfect color.

Santana must have noticed Brittany's admiration for the scarf because she dropped her head down. She toyed with the ends of the scarf, still very curious what Brittany intended. There were tight crosses and stitches in the threads. "What is this fo-"

Something plopped onto her head. Santana jerked up. She forgot about the scarf and looked up. Brittany was smiling uncontrollably. Santana reached up and felt the brim of a hat, but it felt too heavy to be a regular hat. With both hands she ran her fingers around the entire hat.

"Is this a top hat?" Santana flipped it off her head. It was a dark top hat. A red ribbon had been carefully wound around its entire circumference and tied with a bow.

"Of course it is." Brittany took the hat back from her and placed it once more on Santana's head. "And here is your monocle."

Santana didn't know what to say as Brittany pinned a fine gold chain to her sweater and handed her a thing piece of glass.

"What is all of this?"

"I figured I would disguise you as Scrooge." Brittany flashed her a wink and pulled back. She smiled even brighter to see the whole outfit on Santana. "No one will be looking for you dressed like this. Now get your coat and meet me outside. Dress warm. Bring gloves."

"What?" Santana looked down at her outfit and the monocle in her hand with bewilderment.

Brittany walked away from her suite and nonchalantly called back. "Hurry up!"

"Hurry up?" Santana asked, but Brittany had already skipped down the stairs. What the hell was she doing? Why did she need to dress warm? If Brittany thought they were about to go ice skating or something completely cliché or lame, she was about to be disappointed. Santana violently pulled on her coat and grabbed her gloves from her nightstand; however, when she adjusted the red scarf, she did so carefully. She didn't want to snag it on her zipper.

She looked up and saw Rachel Berry's smug expression over the mantle. Santana frowned and stopped fiddling with the top hat. "Shut up, Berry."

Five minutes later, Santana walked out of Hummel's Bed and Breakfast into the freezing cold December air. A light flurry drifted around aimlessly without sticking to ground. Two headlights blinked in the parking lot to an old blue pick-up truck. Santana braced herself and debated if she should text Mercedes to say she was about to go "somewhere" with a woman she only really knew from fighting on the phone.

Mercedes would never let her hear the end of it.

Fuck it.

Santana held onto her hat by the brim and dipped her head into the wind toward Brittany's truck. The door stuck for just a moment before it popped open. The cab was warm - almost as warm as Hummel's. Candy canes were on the dashboard, a snowman glass sticky stuck to the corner of the windshield, and WMHS 97.3 played more Christmas songs through the speakers.

"Get in or we're gonna be late for the best part."

It was already too late. Santana knew there no turning back now. She was already out here. Brittany waited until Santana buckled her seatbelt before she pulled out of Hummel's Bed and Breakfast and drove back out of the parking lot toward Midtown.

* * *

><p><em>5:17 pm<em>

Santana wouldn't have been able to name one road Brittany took on the way into Midtown. She took roads Santana had never seen and drove down the back roads like they were the freeway. She sang every song the radio played and every Christmas song was her favorite. There were times Brittany glanced in Santana's direction, but she never pressed her to sing with her.

"I want a hippopotamus for Christmas! Only a hippopotamus will do! No crocodiles. No Rhinoceroses. I only like hippopatamuses-" Santana laughed as Brittany continued singing along with the song. "-And hippopatamuses like me too!"

As the song ended, Santana had begun humming reluctantly along with Brittany's obnoxious singing. Brittany parked her truck and turned the radio down. Santana glanced around. She didn't recognize this part of Midtown. It wasn't Mercedes's neighborhood, but all of the building still had the same style.

"So, you never did say what we were doing..." Santana prompted.

"I didn't? Huh." Brittany shrugged and reached into her glove compartment. She pulled out a reindeer headband and set it on her head. "That's strange."

The blonde haired reindeer opened her door and exited the truck.

"Brittany?" Santana called after her. "Brittany?"

Santana popped open her door to follow her. Brittany's long legs carried her far across the sidewalk. There were voices and music all around the street and echoing between buildings. Santana picked up her speed to catch up, but when it became obvious Brittany wasn't going to explain, Santana froze and shouted. "SNOWFLAKE."

Brittany turned around with a smirk on her face. She placed and finger to her lips. Santana caught up to her and almost shouted again. "What are we doing out here?"

"Time honored tradition." Brittany started walking again, but much slower this time. She made sure every step she took matched Santana's. It was a stretch. Brittany hadn't even known if Santana would be at the bed and breakfast and she definitely didn't think Santana would agree to come to town with her.

"Another tradition? Does your town do anything else?"

"This one is relatively new." Brittany heard the not too distant sounds of singing. They weren't late. "Now before you think I'm doing this as DJ Snowflake or some other reason, this is my tradition. I just haven't had anyone to bring with me before. Holly is always at the radio station."

They rounded the corner on the street. They could hear the singing clearer now. It filled the street. A group of about fifteen carolers stood in front of a house.

O Christmas tree, o Christmas tree  
>Thy leaves are so unchanging<br>Oh Christmas tree, Oh Christmas tree

One of the carolers spotted Brittany and enthusiastically waved for her to join. Brittany started to walk forward when she felt hesitation from Santana.

"What? You don't sing either?"

Santana bit her lip as if deciding something. "I can sing."

"Good." Brittany smiled and held her hand out for Santana to take. "We can share music."

Santana didn't know why she still balked. She had followed Brittany all the way out here. She had spent the night thinking about Brittany. She had woke up wondering if Brittany would save her phone number from the previous night and call her. Instead, Brittany showed up and took a risk that Santana would instantly reject her. So why the hell would Santana say no? It was better than spending a few more hours surrounded by Rachel Berry.

"Fine." Santana slipped her glove into Brittany's hand and allowed herself to be whisked off.

Everyone smiled as they joined the semi-circle. A binder full with music sheets popped into their hands from one of the men singing. Brittany opened it to the right page, ready to show Santana the correct line.

A strong voice joined the group. It strengthened with each note.

"A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices  
>For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn"<p>

Santana was already singing. Brittany stopped. Santana was singing - like _singing_.

"Fall on your knees, O hear the angels' voices  
>O night divine, O night when Christ was born"<p>

Santana must have seen Brittany's reaction. She shifted ever so slightly. Without looking, Santana's pointer finger slid across the music on the sheet as if to show Brittany where to follow the bars. The next verse started. Santana kept singing but not before casually giving Brittany the sexiest wink. Brittany flushed in the freezing air. That had been unexpected.

Wow.

Brittany's raspy breath turned white as she whispered. "Jingle bells."

* * *

><p><em>8:03 pm<em>

They sang down the street. Sometimes they did a few songs or they did one. Occasionally, a family would pull on their coats and join them. Their group continued to swell in numbers and volume. Santana tried to concentrate on singing and enjoying the moment, but it was almost impossible when she could feel Brittany's hand bump against her thigh or when their fingers touched on the music page. Santana became acutely aware of how close they were whenever Brittany leaned in to ask her a question or make a comment about this neighbor or that house or building.

"Hi."

Santana shivered, but wrapped her arms tight around her chest and pretended it was from the cold.

"Hey."

"You know you're a really good singer."

"I told you I could sing."

"Yeah, but it's beautiful."

Santana blushed at the way Brittany only looked into her eyes when she said beautiful. They had been flirting all night or at least that's what it felt like. Santana didn't know what Brittany's intentions were, but it had only been a few days since Santana thought DJ Snowflake had played her. She needed some space. Just a little space where she couldn't feel Brittany's body. "It's whatever."

"I don't think it's whatever."

Santana swallowed and pulled back. "Don't think for a second this means I'm going to call in and make a request. Singing is one thing. Listening to your never ending Christmas playlist is another."

Brittany lifted her hands in mock innocence. "I would never dream of conning you into making a request. I completely respect your right to be Scrooge."

"Good because it's not happening." Santana noticed the group was moving again, but toward a lone house on the hill. "Where's everyone going?"

"This is the best part." Brittany licked her bottom lip. "You ready for the last song?"

"I guess..." Santana didn't trust how excited Brittany looked.

They fell in with the rest of the carolers and walked up the hill toward the great, but very dark house. A single light flickered on the top floor, but besides that light, the house seemed unoccupied. Santana didn't understand. The other houses they had sung at had been full of lights and Christmas decorations. This one had neither.

Brittany's hand slid ever so casually into hers; Santana forgot all of her misgivings.

A moment later, another person held her other hand. Santana turned to her right to tell whoever it was to back off, but she noticed all of the carolers were holding hands. They had formed a giant circle around the house.

"Britt...?"

Brittany's stomach fluttered as Santana called her Britt, but her excitement was short-lived. The circle started to sway back and forth. She turned and quickly whispered. "Just go with it. And whatever happens, just stay with me."

"Wha-" Santana started to ask, but the group started to sway and sing. It was gentle at first, but swelled with every word.

_Fah who foraze, Dah who doraze_  
><em>Welcome, Christmas, come this way<em>  
><em>Fah Who foraze, Dah who doraze<em>  
><em>Welcome, Christmas, Christmas Day<em>

Santana's mouth dropped. "Are we singing the Who song right now?"

Brittany's smile between singing words all but confirmed they were singing the last song from _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_.

_Welcome, Welcome_  
><em>Fah Who Rah Moos<em>

The upper lights in the house turned on. One. Two. The first floor lights came on. A guttural scream from inside the building erupted. People started to sway faster and look at each other nervously.

_Christmas Day is in our grasp_  
><em>So long as we have hands to clasp<em>

The front door to the house burst open.

"EVERY YEAR, SUNSHINE!" Sue stood panting with a shotgun in her hand pointed to the sky. "I KNOW IT'S YOU!"

Brittany leaned into Santana. "Get ready."

"Ready for wha-" _BANG. BANG. _Santana jumped.

Sue shot the shotgun into the air with a banshee shriek. "I WILL FIND YOU, SUNSHINE! I WILL CATCH YOU THIS YEAR AND THEY WILL HAVE TO INCARCERATE YOU!"

"What the fuc-"

"Now!" Brittany tightened her grasp on Santana's hand. With a hard jerk, they both started back down the hill running at full speed. Santana's heart was pounding. She could hear Sue barking and yelling. Midtown people screeched and ran past them, around them, or ducked behind cars. Other teenagers stayed near the house despite Sue's bellowing and continued singing.

_Dah who dah moos_  
><em>Christmas Day will always be<em>  
><em>Just so long as we have we<em>

"Come on." Brittany pulled them fast into an alleyway. The great tree in the center of town lit the streets and guided their steps. They ran around a few cars and two more streets before Brittany finally slowed down. They were both panting and exhausted, but they could no longer hear the carolers singing or Sue yelling.

Brittany coughed into the back of her hand and started laughing.

Santana leaned against the wall to a store on Main Street and held her hand to her chest. As she panted, she couldn't stop shaking her head. They had almost died. Her heart pounded and her blood raced, but Brittany's laughter was infectious. It carried down the street and vibrated through Santana's chest until she too laughed.

"Holy shit. What the fuck was that?"

Brittany exhaled hard and stood up. Even in the cold, despite how tired she was from running, Brittany smiled. She walked a few steps back to Santana. "Just because we have a lot of traditions in this town, doesn't mean they're all lame."

"No. That was insane." Santana stated and returned Brittany's smile. She couldn't remember the last time she had done anything remotely as reckless. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt like this - ever.

"But kinda fun?" Brittany took a step closer. Santana's cheeks were red from running and Brittany had an insatiable urge to push back the hair in her face.

"Yeah..." Santana admitted. "Just a little fun."

She noticed Brittany's advance. She noticed how the town around them was unoccupied, but the few feet that separated them filled with words and glances. It filled with excitement and anticipation. She never wanted someone to fill that space before - not this quickly, not this complete, but she anxiously watched Brittany take another step.

"Does that mean you actually enjoyed your time with me?"

The front of Brittany's jacket brushed against Santana's zipper. Unconsciously, Santana's lips parted at the sensation.

"Who said my enjoyment had anything to do with you?" Santana answered, but her words faltered as Brittany reached out and brushed the back of her hand against Santana's face. After Brittany tucked her hair behind her ear, she stayed. It didn't matter that Brittany's hands were gloved. It still stopped her from saying anything else.

Brittany noticed the way Santana's body arched. She ached to wrap her hand around her waist to feel Santana do that again, but completely against her body. Santana's heart pounded and her blood raced, but it had nothing to do with the sprint through town. Slowly, Brittany dragged her thumb down. Santana closed her eyes and bit her lip. Brittany's finger and thumb touched and cupped underneath her chin, but she could feel Brittany all over her body. Brittany leaned down and whispered. "Let me make sure it does."

Santana parted her lips all the way and released the softest moan as Brittany's lips kissed her. Blinding heat rushed through Santana's body. Her fingers tingled against the material of her gloves and her hips jolted forward to connect their bodies. Brittany tasted like peppermint and chocolate. Her mouth was soft and sure. Her tongue teased and touched Santana's lips - seeking permission. The top hat on Santana's head tilted back and fell off her head, but she didn't care. Santana placed her hand on Brittany's hip and hooked her finger into a loop on Brittany's jeans. She pulled. Their hips crashed together. This time Brittany moaned, but then smirked into Santana's lips.

_Jingle Bell Jingle Bell Jingle Bell Rock_

Santana jumped and gasped.

Brittany's jeans vibrated right against her hipbone.

"Shit." Santana breathed heavily against Brittany's chest and looked down between them.

"That's my alarm. I um-" Brittany ran her hand through her blonde hair. "I have to get to work soon."

Santana put a hand to her head as if she couldn't believe what just happened. Mostly, she couldn't believe they had to stop. She could still feel Brittany's mouth and taste her tongue. Fuck.

"Of course you do." Santana said and bent over to pick up the top hat from the ground. She brushed it off and tried to collect herself.

"I'll take you back to the bed and breakfast."

"No, it's fine. I'll get a ride from Mercedes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Santana felt light headed. She backed away from Brittany to head toward Mercedes' house.

Brittany frowned as Santana put more and more space between them. She didn't understand. That was the most incredible kiss she had ever had. Did she do something wrong?

"Brittany." Brittany glanced up. Santana smiled and twirled the hat around her fingers before placing it on her head. "Just so you know...we can definitely do that again."

* * *

><p><em>10:01 pm<em>

Brittany didn't feel like opening the night show with any requests. She knew exactly what song she wanted to play when she arrived at work for the night. Without waiting for Holly or callers or advertisers, Brittany took over the broadcast.

_First winter here in your arms__  
><em>_Flames rising as well fall like stars__  
><em>_Making angels in the snow__  
><em>_Warm, fuzzies, frozen toes...__  
><em>_Is this a dream?_

_Don't Wake me up__  
><em>_If this is love__  
><em>_Please let me be__  
><em>_Swept completely off my feet_

She placed her headset down and softly spun in her chair.


	19. December 19th

**Hey guys I'm about a day behind due to parties and Christmas things in real life. I should be caught up by the end of tomorrow! Hope you have a great weekend! :D**

**DJ Snowflake and Scrooge**

**December 19**

_9:03 pm_

"No, I'm sorry." Santana rolled her eyes and looked in the Hummel's Bed and Breakfast parlor. "I understand that you have limited time. I understand. Yes...I understand."

Santana caught Kurt watching her from the common room. A bottle of some dark liquor rested next to his hand and with the other, he casually cleaned the counter of the bar without actually cleaning. Caught staring at her, Kurt didn't even bother to pretend to clean anymore. He dropped the rag down and lifted the bottle in the air. The little shake he gave the glass made the liquid bounce. Santana smiled and nodded.

Kurt took the hint and pulled two glasses out.

"So you need me for the twenty-third?" Santana tried to concentrate on the sound of her boss's voice more than the alcohol Kurt poured.

"I need you to be in New York by the twenty-fourth, Santana." Terri Schuester's volume rose. "I have Christmas parties and a few things I need to take care of before the holidays and I don't have time to get ready for the re-opening of the archives. You can handle all of that, right?"

Santana tried to keep the disappointment from her voice. She had asked for this. She had told Terri that she wanted to be back at the archives as soon as possible. How could she have known that she would spend December in the strangest town with - her eyes darted to the clock once more - the most interesting company. Ten minutes passed.

"Of course I can."

"Good. Then I want to hear from you when you're on your way back."

"Not a problem."

Terri hung up the phone without a good-bye, a thank you, or even a Merry Christmas. Santana should have been used to it by now, but compared to the way everyone in Midtown thrived during the holiday season, Terri seemed cold in comparison.

"Need that drink now?" Kurt called to her from the common room.

"Yes." Santana shoved her phone back into her pocket and approached the bar area. Kurt slid her the dark liquid. Santana lifted the glass. They toasted without words. Santana threw her drink back all the way.

Kurt, however, took a very small sip. "That good of a phone call?"

"My boss."

"Sometimes I forget you don't live and work here." Kurt poured her another drink.

"Yeah." She lifted the glass, but this time she allowed herself a moment for the liquid to absorb her thoughts. Without waiting for Kurt to finish his drink or offering another toast, she threw the drink back. "I forgot too."

"Something wrong?"

Santana toyed with the rim of her cup. Her eyes glanced to the clock once again. "No, not wrong, I just - " She huffed before looking back to Kurt. "- I just didn't know what I was getting myself into when I came here.

Kurt smiled graciously. "Santana, you don't owe us anything. It's been a pleasure having you stay here." Santana ducked into her alcohol to mask the guilt his words produced. She hadn't come any closer to finding anything useful for the bed and breakfast, but she hadn't worked up the nerve to tell either Burt or Kurt. It had been on her mind the past few days. Rachel Berry's legacy wasn't enough to stand on. Not to mention, she had been…distracted… Perhaps Kurt sensed her hesitation. To save her, he added. "But I have a feeling you're not talking about putting Hummel's on the map."

Santana smiled into her glass and silently thanked him for changing the subject to a more pleasurable one. "Is it that obvious?"

"Since we started talking, you've checked the clock at least three times and your eyes were counting seconds when you were on the phone." Kurt turned around to see the time. It was half-past nine. "You know, you could listen to her down here if you wanted."

"Ha." This time Santana laughed. "I'm sure you would love that."

"To see Scrooge call into DJ Snowflake?" Kurt couldn't contain his excitement this time. "I already have popcorn in the microwave. I hope it's as entertaining. I have a hunch Scrooge's feelings toward DJ Snowflake have changed significantly in the past day or two."

"Oh you have a hunch?" Santana rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

"I'd say so."

"Well, you're gonna have to get your entertainment like the rest of DJ Snowflake's listeners - by waiting." Santana poured herself another half drink and set the bottle down. Before Kurt could object, she started to walk toward the stairs to settle in for the night.

"That's no fun, Santana!" Kurt called after her.

"That's why they call me Scrooge." Santana shouted back on her way up to her room.

* * *

><p><em>10:51 pm<em>

"Happy Ho-Ho-Ho-Ho-lidays from Motta's Automotives! Think Motta's when you think Mott-ors." Brittany stuck her tongue out at the tacky ad. Holly twirled her finger in the air to tell Brittany to keep reading.

Brittany grinned at the next ad. "Our weather report is sponsored by our favorite paper publishing company in town. Pillsbury Pamphlets! It's the perfect passive aggressive tool for any situation! They have a variety pack of their most popular pamphlets on special if you mention this ad. Custom pamphlets are available upon request."

She pulled up the weather app on her phone. "It looks like snow is in the forecast this weekend. Make sure you head to the grocery to pick up bread and milk. It could be anywhere from two inches to two feet."

"And now I'm going to open up the request line where I'll be taking any of your holiday favorites." Brittany looked down. The lines had been quiet all night; whereas, normally people would be calling non-stop asking for Scrooge or requesting a song. There had been nothing tonight. To fill the silence, Brittany started the next song and turned her mic off.

Holly frowned behind the glass. The past week had been euphoric with phone calls, advertisers, and townspeople dying to get their voice on DJ Snowflake's show. If tonight was any indication, they were fading out of people's thoughts and holiday excitement fast. As much as Holly loved Brittany as DJ Snowflake, there was something so thrilling and illicit when she had a foil like Scrooge to work against.

"It's a really slow night, Holls."

"I know." Holly said without stating all of her concerns. Brittany was a smart girl. She probably already figured them out. "I just signed two new advertisers. I don't want them to cancel before we even run an ad."

Brittany puffed her cheeks out in thought. "I could always bring Lord Tubbington onto the show again."

Holly's frown deepened. "He chewed through three feet of wires to get to an old piece of cheese."

"But this is the thing –" Brittany ignored Holly's reminder for the last debacle her cat had caused. "-I think if we did a ginger bread special and Lord Tubbington helped me make houses and people, it would be really great. I think it would be a big hit."

"Brittany, I can't say no enough on this one."

"Fine, but now what am I going to down with all the gingerbread supplies."

"Britt, don't even start pouting because it's not going to work this time."

A lone light on her dashboard stopped Brittany mid-pout. She wanted for the song to end before she switched her mic back on. "Listener! You're on the air with DJ Snowflake on WMHS 97.3. What can I do for you tonight?"

"_You know-" _Brittany jumped from her chair and instantly perked up. Her eyes flicked to Holly. "_-after last night, I thought maybe you would have called me, but here I am calling you…again…like I've been doing all December."_

Brittany would never make the mistake of not recognizing Santana's voice again.

"Sa-"

Holly shook her head violently in the window.

Brittany corrected herself. "Scrooge?"

"_Hi." _She repeated Brittany's greeting from the previous night. _"Were you expecting some else? Perhaps Cindy Lou Who?"_

Brittany broke into an open mouth smile and once again glanced to Holly, but her boss didn't get the reference. Holly hadn't gone caroling. She hadn't run from Sue or held Brittany's hand.

"No, I jus-"

"_I'm disappointed I thought you would have a tradition for every night in December. _

"You were?" She couldn't imagine the word disappoint and Santana in the same sentence; not after last night. After nights of agitating Santana as DJ Snowflake, Brittany never imagined that same voice could toy with her. Brittany shifted in her chair and distinctly remembered Santana's finger looped in her jeans. The memory, coupled with Santana's boldness, made Brittany's words stick. Her radio personality slipped as she imagined speaking directly to Santana's dark eyes. "I would never want to disappoint you. Is there some way I can make it up to you?"

"_I'll have to think of something."_

"Why don't we start a tradition tonight." Brittany offered. "I can play you any song you want. _O Holy Night, O Christmas Tree, Welcome Christmas Fah Who Foraze_. Anything thing you want." Brittany licked her lips, but it did little to suppress her smile. She wished she could see Santana's face. "All you have to do is ask."

Santana paused as if contemplating her choices. _"You're going to have to try harder if you want a song request from me…Snowflake…"_

The phone clicked dead. Brittany leaned back in her chair unsure what just happened. That had been unexpected. Brittany was used to being the one to surprise people, but Santana always managed to be just as quick, if not quicker.

_TAP TAP_

Holly tapped the glass and made frantic urges to play the next song or do something. Brittany sat up straight in her chair and quickly fumbled over her playlist and picked something random. "This next song goes out to WMHS 97.3's favorite caller – Scrooge. Now if anyone else thinks they can call in with a request or a suggestion for Scrooge for the holiday season, the number is 1-800-973-WMHS."

Before Brittany could finish announcing the call-in number, her dashboard lit with five more callers. She turned off her mic as the song started.

Holly spoke first. "What the hell was that, Britt? I mean I know that was Santana, but that was a much different Scrooge." She looked down. "I've got people calling my line and Sue's line to get onto your show right now."

"That…" Brittany glanced down with a smile. "That was Santana…"

"Oh. That was Santana?" Holly rolled her eyes. "Like that's an answer? That, Brittany S. Pierce, that was hot and that is going to land us another advertiser. That is better than all the Lord Tubbington specials you could ever run. That is going to get WMHS 97.3 in every living room, bedroom, late night shop, and car in a ten mile radius. Before you go all heart eyes and zone out again, you need to take some of these callers after this song."

"Yes, boss." Brittany nodded, but she was already fiddling with her cell phone in her pocket. She didn't care how many people were on the line, there was only one person she wanted to talk to.

"Caller you're on the air!"

"_Was that Scrooge? I thought she had disappeared! Are you two going to do a show together?"_

"_DJ Snowflake! Like OH MY GOD! I Looooooooooooove your show! I started listening from the beginning, but now I make my best friend listen to it too! We totally ship you and Scrooge together. Is she going to keep calling because you said that you weren't taking calls until she called in and then you mysteriously started taking calls again and she called tonight! I wrote a little fic about the tree lighting ceremony-"_ Brittany quickly dropped the call and moved to the next one.

"…_hello…? Hello? Is that you DJ Snowflake? I can't talk very loud because my girlfriend said that if I kept listening to you at night, that I would have to go back to sleeping on the couch. I just wanted you to know I love your show and I'm so excited Scrooge is back."_

"_I thought this was a gimmick, but damn, that was smoking __hot__! Can't wait for more! Can you play me something by Pentatonix while I'm in this good mood?"_

"_Hey DJ! My wife and I listen to your show every night. She's working a late __nightshift __at emergency care so I want to dedicate Silent Night by Stevie Nicks so she has a peaceful night and makes it home safe."_

Brittany put on the next request and dropped her headset. Holly nodded in approval. The phone calls hadn't stopped and Brittany had a feeling Holly was discussing another string of advertisements with someone else. She paced excitedly and kept throwing Brittany a thumbs up.

She only had a few minutes. Brittany pulled out her cell phone. It only took one ring before Santana picked up her phone.

Without missing a beat, she simply stated. "Took you long enough. I thought that phone call would get your attention."

"Yeah, my attention and everyone else's in Midtown's."

Brittany missed the sound of Santana's laughing. She remembered how exhilarated and free they felt after they escaped Sue's wrath. "I've been listening." The sound of the radio in the background became evident before Santana turned it down again. "That was kinda fun getting everyone all riled up. No wonder you like it so much, Snowflake." Santana teased.

The DJ leaned back and noticed Holly watching her. As much as she wanted to stay on the phone forever, she knew her time was limited. Brittany quickly blurted out what she had been thinking about since last night. "What do you want for Christmas, Santana?"

Taken aback, Santana hadn't expected such a direct question. "What? I haven't been asked what I wanted for Christmas since I was like twelve."

"So? Be twelve again. What do you want for Christmas?" Brittany smiled into her phone receiver. "I've wanted to ask you last night, but I got a little distracted by…"

Brittany trailed off. It was the only thing on her mind all day. Brittany shifted in her chair again thinking about how soft Santana's lips were. She finished her thought with barely a whisper. "…you."

"Want to be distracted again?"

"Yes." Brittany's breathing hitched. "But you still didn't answer the question."

"I don't know what I want. I never thought about it."

"You have to want something."

"And you'll put in a good word for me with Santa Claus?"

"I do have connections." Brittany teased, but she looked up. Holly was waiting for her to finish with the call. "Just think about it, okay?"

"What time do you get off?"

Brittany looked at the time on her dashboard. "Not until after three." She smiled deviously into her phone. "Want me to come by and distract you again?"

"Maybe." Santana's voice lowered as if she just imagined their kiss again.

Brittany rolled her hips in her chair. They were obviously thinking the same thing. "Then maybe I'll see you later tonight."

Brittany hung up the phone right as the song ended. She didn't look at Holly. She didn't need to see her boss's eyes. She could only think of brushing back Santana's hair and kissing her again. "This is DJ Snowflake! What song can I play for you?" Even though she asked the question and was excited to be on the air, her thoughts were already elsewhere.


	20. December 20th

**DJ Snowflake and Scrooge**

**December 20  
><strong>_?:? am_

Hummel's Bed and Breakfast had fallen asleep to the sound of DJ Snowflake and Christmas music a long time ago. The snow flurries outside had picked up as predicted by the weather forecast for the weekend. The bed and breakfast was relatively quiet in the early morning. Kurt and Burt had dimmed the lights and closed down the common room.

It was quiet.

The quiet that demanded to be broken.

Santana tilted her head back. Her mouth half-opened. Her legs shifted and tangled with the disheveled sheets on the bed. Lips trailed wet lines down the side of her neck. Blonde hair caressed her face and found bare skin. Santana closed her eyes and leaned back further. Brittany took the opportunity to kiss down her collarbone. Her hands pushed Santana's collar over her shoulder. Santana gasped as Brittany continued to unclothe her. Every inch of skin Brittany exposed, she covered immediately with a hot kiss. Santana shivered- the cold, the heat, Brittany's lips...her tongue.

She couldn't remember the last time she had felt like this - the last time she had let someone in. The last time she had let someone fill her body so completely.

Santana arched back and moaned. "Brittany..."

She opened her eyes, but the bed shook and the walls echoed Brittany's name. Something wasn't right. Santana bolted straight up.

Brittany was gone. The bed was gone. She stood in the middle of nothing. Confused, Santana spun around, but could see nothing for miles. Everything was gray - black and white. She looked down, but she wasn't sure if she was floating or standing on more gray nothingness.

"What the fuck?" Santana grasped the material of her shirt to ensure she wasn't a ghost. The long sleeved button down shirt she had worn to bed had no color. It was another variation of gray. The red sweatpants Brittany had pulled down her legs were also gray. Why was everything black and white?

"Brittany?"

"No!" A voice that definitely didn't belong to Brittany answered. "I am certainly not Brittany. I would say you should know who I am since you are supposed to be here trying to find a way to preserve me forever. Instead you mire my master suite legacy with your dreams full of debauchery! I couldn't stand by idly and watch your dirty dreams any longer."

"What the fuck..." Santana repeated again.

"Santana Lopez!" The voice shouted from directly behind her head.

Santana jumped and flipped around so fast so lost her balance. Hovering above her in long green dress gown was a small woman pointing and throwing a fit. Santana had no idea what was going on. Confused, Santana glared at her even as she continued to yell.

"The audacity! How could you even think about having a dream like that in a room named after _me!_" She floated above Santana in an agitated circle. "The least you could have done was include me in the dream. I think I would have done a better job than blondie."

Santana only heard half of the words the woman said. Her eyes followed the green dress around in the air until it hit her.

She knew that dress.

Santana's head snapped up. Oh god. She knew that dress. "Holy fuck! Rachel Berry!" She shook her head violently. "This can't be real. This is a fucking nightmare. You're supposed to be old - you're supposed to be dead. I need to wake up. I need to get out of this fucking room. I need mental care. I need something."

"Finally! A little recognition." Rachel exclaimed. "I'm only mildly insulted you didn't recognize me immediately.

"Why is this happening?" Santana pinched her arm and slapped her thigh. She did _not_ need to have a dream about Rachel Berry. "Did I die? Is this my hell?"

"Like you'd be so lucky to spend the afterlife with me?" Rachel moved around. "You're here because I don't think you're taking _my _legacy very seriously."

"What?"

A third voice, one Santana definitely knew, entered the dream.

"Welcome to another late night round of Rachel Berry: A Very Berry Trivia Show!" Brittany appeared standing behind a podium and next to a gameshow board like one that would be on Jeopardy. "Please meet out contestants for tonight show. Player One; our undefeated champion who is currently riding a winning streak of seventy-five games. The one - the only - RACHEL BERRY!"

A studio track of applause erupted around them.

Rachel smiled just like she did in all of her portraits and waved as if she was the queen of Midtown. She walked to the player one stage and stood behind her podium with the most obnoxious smile.

"Brittany?" Santana tried to get Brittany's attention. "What is happening?"

Brittany winked in her direction, but didn't have time to explain. "Player Two is a new comer to the A Very Berry Trivia Show, but already threatening to be a fearsome competitor. She is Midtown's newest addition, friend of Mercedes's Jones, current occupant of the Rachel Barbra Berry Master Suite, researching the great Christmas singer herself, and..." Brittany trailed off, but didn't mask her amused smile. "...participating in some very naughty dreams about your host - SANTANA LOPEZ!"

The studio track of applause erupted again.

Santana stood still. She might have been in the middle of a very vivid nightmare, but that didn't mean she was going to participate.

"Santana..." Brittany called her name softly away from the microphone. "You have to take your place."

"I just want to wake up."

Brittany shrugged. "Just play a round or two. I promise, I'll make it worth your while." She spoke away from the microphone. Santana could have sworn Brittany was talking just behind her ear. "If you play, next time I won't just kiss your neck. I want to kiss you much lower than that."

Santana blushed. Silently she reprimanded herself for allowing dream Brittany into manipulating her, but she still walked toward the stand.

"Great!" Brittany pulled out a stack of note cards. The gameshow board generated new categories.

_A Very Berry Christmas_

_Duel of the Carols_

_Berry Ex-Lovers_

_Berry Significant Dates_

Rachel clapped excitedly at the reveal of the categories. Santana's jaw dropped. She still couldn't believe she was participating in a dream gameshow against Rachel Berry or that she hadn't woken up yet. Santana glanced down the categories, but only one stuck out in her mind.

She _needed_ to wake up before _Berry Ex-Lovers_.

"Alrighty, Rachel, since you are the defending champ, you get to pick the first category!"

"I don't wish to discourage my opponent too severely, so I won't destroy her with my intellect until the later rounds, Brittany. Let's start with _Duel of the Carols_."

Applause.

"YES! Great choice! This is a crowd favorite!" Brittany flipped through her note cards and pulled out the ones for this category. "First up we have _Hark! The Herald Angels Sing_."

Rachel smiled. "Classic. Excellent. Give me the mic."

A mic magically appeared in Rachel's hands. She smiled out into the gray abyss were Santana imaged the studio produced audience sat. Santana pinched her forearm harder.

"Okay! So here is how this game works! I will start spinning a track and you will have to sing the song until I yell switch. At that time, Santana, you will have to sing where Rachel left off."

Santana tried to pinch her arm once more, but a second microphone appeared in her hand. "How?"

"Not yet, Santana. I didn't say switch yet!" Brittany tsked at her for speaking in the mic before it was her turn.

"Now, ladies, remember you will be judged on poise, smiles, and actually singing the song – that's actually the only thing that matters."

Music blasted from behind their podium stands. Rachel Berry immediately started singing the opening words to the song.

_Hark! The herald angels sing  
><em>_Glory to the newborn king_

"SWITCH!" Brittany yelled and nodded in Santana's direction. Santana hesitated, but lifted her mic.

_Peace on earth and mercy mild  
><em>_God and sinners reconcile_

Rachel leaned into her microphone and whispered over Santana's singing. "She got lucky she even knew the words. Lord knows she was a little sharp."

"A little sharp?" Santana stopped singing and glared across the podium. "You wish, old lady, I will out sing you on all your songs."

"Umm-" Brittany cringed and slowed the music track. "Ladies, trash talking in the middle of _Duel of the Carols_ isn't allowed."

"Fine, I'll kick her ass singing. Play the song, Brittany." Santana grabbed her mic and approached Rachel.

Rachel understood a challenge had been issued and grabbed her own mic. They both started singing and circling around their stands. Brittany wasn't sure if the song had become a duet or if it was still a duel. All she could see was they were both very intent to glare and sing into each other's eyes.

The song ended, but they were still scowling at each other.

"Okay…that was intense…" Brittany cautiously said.

"Who won!?" Rachel demanded. "Who did better? I mean she lost the entire category for singing and she certainly doesn't know how smile. How could she have even come close to winning the poise section?"

"Oh come off, Berry." Santana rolled her eyes. "You weren't even close to me. You're so old, your lungs are full of dust."

"Well actually…" Brittany cut back in. "Neither of you followed the rules of the game, so you're both disqualified. Santana, it's your turn to pick a category."

_A Very Berry Christmas_

_Berry Ex-Lovers_

_Berry Significant Dates_

"This really is hell…" Santana stated. "How about Berry Significant Dates?"

"Great! Just buzz in when either of you know the answer." Brittany pulled out more notecards. "Okay…in what year did Rachel Berry record her first so-?"

Rachel hit the buzzer. "1949."

"Correct!" Brittany shouted. A point went on the board for Rachel. "What year did she change managers and received a big payout for a Christmas special on television?"

Rachel buzzed again. "1976."

"Correct again! You're on a roll, Rachel!"

Santana's face revealed all the disgust she felt. "How are these questions even fair if they are all about her?"

"Maybe you should have come better prepared, Santana." Rachel flipped her hair and readied for the next question.

"In what year did Rachel first-"

Rachel slammed her buzzer down. "1957!"

"Another answer correct!"

"Okay! Stop!" Santana waved her hands in the air. "I get it! This is one of those Charles Dickens dreams, right? Where the ghosts all appear and torment me so that I see the error of my ways? I make a big dramatic change and I start to like Christmas again! Right? Well! Ta-da! I like Christmas!" Santana pointed in Brittany's direction. "Well at least I like her. So can I wake the fuck up now?"

The dream Brittany smiled and waved back at Santana. Rachel, however, frowned. She pushed away her buzzer and podium stand. She floated above Santana and shook her head.

"Santana, this had nothing to do with you. This is a dream to remind you why you're in Midtown in the first place. It's _me_. I am the answer. You're here because of me and I don't think you're doing a very good job of immortalizing my legacy forever. In fact, all you've done is make yourself a bigger name this holiday season than my special edition Christmas collection album."

"Please wake up. Please wake up." Santana begged to no one in particular.

"Just remember, Santana, I'm watching and if you don't finish what you started, we'll start the next round of the A Very Berry Trivia Show. I'm watching, Santana, always watching, always."

* * *

><p>Santana jolted from her bed. She clutched her chest to slow her beating heart.<p>

"What the fuck!?" She looked down. Everything was dark, but she could see colors in the covers and on her clothes.

The portrait of Rachel Berry above the mantle hung there as if mocking her. Santana groaned loudly and rolled out of bed. She grabbed her cell phone and slipped into her moccasins.

Nope. She was done for the night. She needed to get out of this room before Rachel's portraits drove her crazy.

She opened the door to the room and walked out. She could fix herself a hot cup of tea or something. As she walked down the stairs, Santana felt her phone buzz in her hand.

It was a text message from Brittany:

_Got held up at work. Can I see you tomorrow instead?_

Santana almost felt relieved. Her dream had been so vivid that she wasn't quite sure what had just happened. Even if the dream hadn't been real, she still felt a strong sensation of guilt. She needed to give the Hummel's something to help their bed and breakfast before she returned to New York. Tomorrow she would spend her day trying to find something for Kurt and Burt.


	21. December 21st

**DJ Snowflake and Scrooge**

**December 21  
><strong>_9:42 am_

Santana muscled her way through the town hall door with a stack of three boxes, her notepads, and a large cup of coffee. As much as she didn't want to risk running into Mercedes's coworkers, Santana needed to work. She never wanted to have a guilt-ridden dream again – much less one starring Rachel Berry. If she never thought about Rachel Berry again, it would be too soon. Santana woke up in the middle of the common room at the bed and breakfast determined to stay at the town records until she found something substantial to give to the Hummel's.

She shook the snow off her coat and tried to brush it off her boxes so they wouldn't get wet.

The building was dark. Santana called out. "Hello?"

When no one answered, she figured no one worked on Sundays. Good. She could work in peace for as long as she wanted.

Santana walked past Mercedes's office and straight down to the town records. She placed her boxes down, undid her coat, cleared Doris's desk, and settled in.

Fuck Rachel Berry. She wouldn't leave until she found something.

* * *

><p><em>2:07 pm<em>

Santana sipped on her fourth cup of coffee to no avail. Her eyes were sore from reading and her fingers were dry from handling paper. She bit the top of her pencil and pushed her glasses back from her head.

She found Rachel's birth certificate from 1930. It was strange in a number of ways. First, it didn't list a mother, which on most birth certificates was given. It did have her father's name, Hiram Berry, and a guardian, LeRoy Berry. Santana carefully removed it from the box and closed the lid. She had spent the past two hours sorting through three rows of boxes to find the 1930s. Carefully, she placed the document in a sealed bag and walked back to Doris's desk. Essentially, the piece of paper was useless because Santana still had nothing to make Rachel Berry, without a doubt, significant.

At the moment, she was just collecting more things to add to Kurt's ever growing collection of Rachel Berry memorabilia. She rubbed her eyes to clear away her grogginess and frustration.

* * *

><p><em>6:08 pm<em>

Santana pushed her dollar bill into the vending machine in the kitchen area. It stuck, folded in, and popped out again. "Come on." She kicked the side of the big machine and tried to flatten the bill out again before shoving it back.

She was tired and nowhere with her search. It was more than frustrating, but she refused to leave – not yet.

B-7

The pack of crackers in the second row dropped. Santana grabbed her dinner and walked back down the hall to Mercedes's office. She needed a break from the town records. Without thinking, she automatically turned the dial to the radio on as she passed by Mercedes's filing cabinet. Christmas music gently played, but since Sue was done for the day and Brittany wouldn't come on till later, there was no talk show host or DJ.

Santana plopped into Mercedes's chair and started to review her notes. Her glasses felt heavy and she stifled a yawn, but she kept flipping through her notepad pages.

* * *

><p><em>10:57 pm<em>

"_Good evening, Midtown! It's DJ Snowflake, your favorite late night host for holiday music, excitement, the best places to go shopping, and the most delicious cookie recipes around!"_

Santana opened her eyes and jerked forward. Her notepad and pencil spilled to the floor. She rubbed her eyes and glanced to the clock on Mercedes's desk.

"Shit."

How could she have fallen asleep? Santana groaned and picked up her pencil and pad. She tried to slide her phone open, but the battery died. Of course she left her charger back at the bed and breakfast. Figures.

"_I run these ads every night and you know what's funny? I actually got to spend a night at Hummel's Bed and Breakfast. The service was incredible. I arrived too late to have dinner, but I did get to sample very heavily from their bar. Let me tell you, it was fully stocked. But you know what I enjoyed the most?"_

Santana smiled softly in Mercedes's chair. This definitely wasn't the worst way to wake up.

"_There was another guest there who was just trying to have a drink too. We talked, drank, and had the best time. It was a really great night. Not to mention, their double stuffed pillows are like sleeping on clouds. Anyway, I hope you guys check them out. They have packages and holiday specials going on. I know there's more than one reason for me to repeat my night out there."_

Santana stood up from Mercedes's chair and stretched out. Curious, Santana walked over to the window and pushed down the blinds just because she couldn't believe it was already late at night. The sun had been out last time she checked. She flipped her finger through the blinds and expected to see the great tree in the center of town.

White.

Everything was white.

It wasn't just a little white, but it was fully white and still snowing.

Santana's jaw dropped. There was enough snow on the streets and the parking lots that it would require a plow to get out.

Shit. _She_ would need a plow to get out of the town hall building and through the streets of Midtown. Even if she could leave, her little rental car would probably never make it through the back roads with that kind of snow cover. She couldn't leave even if she wanted.

"Come on, Cedes. You've got to have a charger in here somewhere." Maybe she could get Mercedes's boyfriend, Sigmund, to pick her up. A night spent with Mercedes would be a thousand times better than getting snowed in at the Hummel's Bed and Breakfast. She shuddered at the thought of another night underneath Rachel Berry's gaze. Santana ripped open the desk drawer, the cabinet, searched under the desk, and checked all of the outlets. Nothing.

"Shit."

"_Hope you are all enjoying a cozy night wrapped up at home. Maybe some of you are enjoying hot chocolate and watching the snow fall. Here's a little something to get you in the mood for a long morning of shoveling."_

_Oh the weather outside is frightful  
><em>_But the fire is so delightful  
><em>_And since we've got no place to go  
><em>_Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!_

Santana picked up the office phone, but she didn't know Mercedes's number. There was only one number besides her own that she knew by heart.

* * *

><p><em>11:03 pm<em>

"Brittany…" Holly tried to get her favorite employee's attention. "Brittany, come on."

"What, Holls?" Brittany spun around in her chair to face the glass window that separated them.

"You've got to forgive me sometime. I needed you. You're the one everyone wants to meet and talk to. How was I supposed to know you had a booty call with Scrooge last night?" Holly raised her eyebrows.

"It wasn't a booty call. I was going to bring over that leftover gingerbread stuff since you aren't going to let me do a gingerbread house special with Lord Tubbington." Brittany sighed. "You _really_ didn't need me to seal the deal with Puckerman's Pool Cleaning Service. That guy isn't even cleaning pools right now. He just wanted to come check you out and then check me out."

"Okay…" Holly bounced her head back and forth. "You're not wrong about any of those points, but he did say he would look to add runs in the summer if you were going to do a show. The summer, Britt! He was already thinking six months from now! That's a good thing! Whether he was a little skivvy or not, that means people expect WMHS 97.3 to be on the air for the next six months."

"Yeah, it is pretty exciting." Brittany couldn't stay mad at Holly. In fact, it was impossible when they had been friends forever and this was some of the best news they had in a while. Whether they wanted to admit it or not, Santana/Scrooge was the best thing that could have happened to the radio station this season. Brittany glanced down at her cell phone, but Santana had never responded to her text message. "I think with all these advertisers running ads with _my_ show, I should probably be allowed to host any show I wanted in any time slot I wanted."

"Don't push it, Snowflake, especially after that stunt you pulled with Sue. You're lucky that woman hasn't run you out of town yet."

"She's been pretty close this year." Brittany smirked. The red light on her dash started blinking. She pulled her headphones over her head and waited until the song ended. "Listener! You're on the air with WMHS 97.3! What can I play for you tonight?"

"_Well, maybe if you played more than Christmas music all the time, I would have heard a weather report for today's monumental amount of snow."_

Brittany dropped her cell phone down and instantly leaned into her control panel. She swallowed hard and tried not to show too much excitement in her voice.

"Clearly, Scrooge, you haven't been listening to my program as much as you claim. I've announced a snow storm coming in for the past two days."

"_I've been a little –" _A small embarrassed cough echoed through their connection. Brittany wondered if Santana was blushing and what it would take to make Santana blush when Brittany could see it. "-_a little distracted."_

"Maybe I could play some more music to distract you further?" Brittany playfully suggested.

"_Well you see, I'm kinda stuck at that place where I do extra work for my consulting job-" _Brittany tilted her head at Santana's choice of words. She remembered their conversation from the bed and breakfast. She worked for the Hummel's, but Santana had mentioned doing some consultant work for the town hall.

"What are you doing there?"

"_That's the thing. I didn't mean to be here all night and now I'm kinda…stuck…"_

Brittany looked up to Holly. "You're stuck? Are you okay?"

"_Yeah, I'm fine. I just don't think I can leave and I wouldn't have called, but you're the only number in town I know."_

Brittany looked up to Holly. Holly grabbed her cell phone and left her office. Within a second, her boss opened the doors to the sound booth and made gestures for Brittany to get off her chair.

"What are you doing, Holls?"

Holly took the headphones from Brittany head and wrapped them around her neck. "Get out of here. Go rescue your girl. I can handle the rest of the show."

"Seriously?"

"You hear that, Scrooge?" Holly said into the live mic. They had been broadcasting their conversation the entire time. "She's on her way." Holly hung up the phone call before Santana could insist she was fine. She turned back to Brittany. "Yes, now get out of here, Snowflake, before she freezes up. I'm sure you two can find some way to weather the storm together."

Holly smirked as she watched Brittany grab her hat, gloves, and coat before running out of the studio with her truck keys. She adjusted her mic and settled into the chair.

"Midtown! What's up? This is DJ Holla-at-your-Hollsters taking over your nighttime Christmas show. We're gonna start off this block of holiday music with Run DMC's _Christmas in Hollis_ and then we're gonna follow that up with my girl Mary J. Blige from her Christmas album. If you've got any-"

Holly noticed the red flashing light on her dash. She hit the button to take the call. "This is WMHS 97.3. What can I play for you?"

"_Um. Hi. Did DJ Snowflake just leave to go save Scrooge?"_

Holly's smirk could be heard through the radio broadcast. "You better believe it."

* * *

><p>The line went dead. Santana stood in Mercedes's office with her mouth half-opened and her brain not functioning. She had wanted Brittany to call Mercedes or a service or maybe tell her where the closest diner was. The last thing Santana expected was for Brittany to drop everything and come to her. That was crazy.<p>

This was crazy.

She hopped over her files on the floor and turned the dial to the radio up.

"_Um. Hi. Did DJ Snowflake just leave to go save Scrooge?"_

"_You better believe it."_

Santana took another peek out of the blinds. It was still snowing. Santana wished her phone was working so she could call Brittany's cell phone and tell her not to come. It wasn't a big deal. Too late now.

Santana looked around Mercedes's office. It was a mess. There were papers and files and notes all over the place. Not to mention, she was a mess herself. Santana had heard the entire conversation Brittany had with Holly. _Go get your girl._ The words came back with full force. Your girl? Santana tried to ignore the words and clean up, but all she could think about was what it meant to be someone's girl. Brittany's girl. What the fuck? She was supposed to be leaving in a few days. She wasn't supposed to be anything.

"Shit."

Santana dropped the stack of papers in her hands and walked away. She left Mercedes's office and made her way down the hall to the bathroom to wash her face and maybe fix her hair. If she had to guess, Santana knew she looked about as messy as the office.

A few minutes later, Santana stood by the doorway of the town hall and stared out into the snow covered town. It was colder here than the rest of the building, but Santana knew she wasn't bouncing up and down to stay warm. How the hell was Brittany even going to get here? It was foolish for her to even come. Granted, Santana didn't look forward to spending the rest of the night at the town hall.

The sound of a vehicle pulled her from her thoughts.

Headlights to an old blue pickup truck flooded Main Street. Attached to the front of the truck was a v-plow. It pushed snow at a massive rate to clear a single lane. Snow sprayed from either side of the truck. Santana shook her head. Even from this distance with the snow still falling, Santana could clearly see the Christmas themed window stickers and the lines of garland hanging inside the cab of Brittany's truck.

Brittany cleared the snow around Santana's rental car before she parked right behind her. A few minutes later, Brittany hopped out of her truck with a bundle of something wrapped in her arms, wearing a heavy coat, boots, a yellow beanie, and her gloves. Santana waited until she was close enough to the door before she opened it.

The cold wind and snow rushed in, but Santana didn't care. She quickly pulled Brittany into the building and shut the door behind her.

Brittany shook off the snow from her outfit and pushed back the hood of her coat so she could see Santana. Her cheeks were red from the cold and snow clung to strands of her hair, but all she saw was Santana. "Hi."

"Hey." Santana said without thinking before she remembered all the reasons Brittany shouldn't have comes. "What are you doing here? I didn't need to be rescued. I was lonely and trapped or whatever. I would have been fine. You could have given me the number to the township municipalities for snow. They could have gotten me out of here. My cell phone died so you were the only number I knew off the top of my head."

Brittany continued smiling even as Santana rattled off all the reasons she shouldn't have come. "I know you didn't need to be rescued."

"Oh." Santana pulled back unsure what to say next. "Then why are you here?"

"Because all I've been thinking about is doing this again." Brittany stepped forward without any hesitation.

The cotton from Brittany's gloves brushed against Santana's warm cheek. The fuzzy material rubbed against Santana's face and sent a tingling sensation throughout her entire body. She completely forgot why she had been mad or why she couldn't get too involved with Brittany. Brittany dropped the bundle in her hand and took a step directly into Santana's body. She tilted Santana's head up and met her lips.

Santana shivered hard in Brittany's arms. Brittany's lips were so cold, but Santana didn't care. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth. She sucked on Brittany's bottom lip and refused to let go until Brittany's breath was as hot as Santana felt. Brittany's other hand wrapped around Santana's waist and half lifted her up, half pushed her back.

Her back pressed into the hard surface of the wall. Brittany's heavy coat filled the space between them. Frustrated, Santana pulled hard on the zipper and tugged it all the way down the blonde's chest. Brittany chest hitched as Santana's hands ran straight down her body, but more so when she got to the bottom of the teeth. The zipper caught in the bottom. Brittany pulled back from Santana's lips for a half second. Her eyes were glazed with anticipation and desire as she glanced down in the small space between them. She watched as both of Santana's hands pressed into the coat and consequently into Brittany's lower abdomen to undo the zipper. Brittany clenched her stomach and swallowed hard.

The zipper released. Santana ran her hands down the inside of Brittany's coat and pushed it over her shoulders.

"Wow…" Brittany breathed heavily before she placed another soft kiss to Santana's lips.

The kiss was so intimate, so genuine, and so real; it took Santana a moment longer to recover from the small peck than from the passionate one before. She hadn't been prepared for that.

"I've been thinking about you too." Santana pulled back and confessed. She reached up and gently pulled the beanie from Brittany's head. Half-melted snowflakes and water dripped onto the floor. Santana squeezed the hat to make sure it was as dry as possible. "So do you wanna come in and dry off?"

"If you want me to come in or –" Brittany turned back to look out on the street again. "-I could probably drive you back to Hummel's for the night."

Santana shook her head at the thought of another night in the Rachel Berry room. "I wouldn't want to risk it. At least wait until it stops snowing – like you should have done before you drove over here."

"Yeah, but…" Brittany smiled to herself. "It was totally worth it."

Brittany bent over and picked her coat off. She undid her boots and put them off to the side so she wouldn't make wet puddles everywhere she walked in the town hall.

"So are you gonna show me where you work?" Brittany asked with a smile.

"You know I don't actually work here, right?" Santana lead Brittany down the hall. She carried Brittany's bundle in one hand and shoved the beanie into her jeans pocket. Brittany trailed behind, but much slower. Her socks made muffled steps on the floor. Her eyes darted everywhere. Even with the minimal lighting, Brittany could still see the plaques and portraits of the various town government members currently serving and retired.

"Well yeah, but you could work here if you wanted."

"I guess…" Santana hadn't ever thought about it. Local government was Mercedes's thing. Santana had done quite well at the New York State Archives.

"Is this Mercedes's office?" Brittany questioned as they reached the end of the hall.

"I've been using it as my office."

Brittany snuck into the office door. Santana quickly reached out to stop her. "Wait!" But it was too late. Santana followed her and cringed. Files, papers, and Santana's notes were still all over the office. "I didn't have a chance to clean up."

"_If DJ Snowflake and Scrooge are together somewhere, do you think at least part of my tree lighting ceremony fic is coming true?"_

Santana had forgotten to turn off the radio on the filing cabinet. Brittany glanced to the radio and back at Santana with a ridiculous smile. She practically beamed to hear WMHS 97.3.

Holly's voice played over the broadcast. "_Sugar, I gotta tell you, I read the hard copy of your fic that you sent the station and dayum, girl, that was hot but I gotta ask you about the part where they use the actual Christmas tree as part of their romping. I mean that was dirty." _Holly paused. "_But I totally read it five or six times."_

"_In the spirit of rocking around, or with the Christmas tree, this next song goes out to our very own DJ Snowflake and Scrooge."_

_Rocking around the Christmas tree  
><em>_At the Christmas party hop_

Santana felt heat rush to her cheeks and fumbled for the dial to the radio. Brittany laughed. "So this is where you listen to me all the time?"

"Here and downstairs."

"What's downstairs?"

"The town records."

"Aren't you going to show me?" Brittany asked.

Santana nodded weakly. "Sure. I mean there isn't really anything down there. I don't know why you'd want to go down there."

"Just show me." Brittany's eyes sparkled. "It's not like we've got anywhere to be."

* * *

><p>"I just can't believe you're going through all of these boxes just for the Hummels's." Brittany stood between two metal shelves. She played with the lids and waved away dust from untouched boxes. "This is so neat."<p>

"It's not that exciting…" Santana remarked. She leaned back on Doris's desk and watched Brittany touch boxes with care and fascination. Santana's eyes lingered longer than they should have on Brittany's fingers now that they were ungloved. She swallowed hard as she remembered both of their kisses – even her dream last night before it had been interrupted. She wanted her ask herself what she was doing, but every time Brittany looked up at her or smiled in her direction, Santana forgot all of her misgivings.

"It's really amazing that Kurt and his dad want to do something with Rachel Berry. She's part of a long tradition of change in this town. You know after Rachel's album hit it big, the town stopped calling it a Christmas Tree Lighting and started calling it a Tree Lighting Ceremony? She's also the reason we play Hanukkah songs at the station; this town was founded on acceptance." Brittany smirked. "Despite all the times Sue has tried to run someone out. It's neat you're doing something with it."

Santana broke eye contact for a second. "I haven't really done much with it yet."

Brittany set down the document she had been reading and walked toward Santana. Santana must not have heard Brittany's footsteps because she genuinely started at the feel of Brittany's lips caressing the side of her neck. Santana closed her eyes and leaned back on the desk. "Britt…"

The other woman's hands answered. Brittany interlocked their fingers and pulled Santana away from the desk. Santana didn't resist. Brittany grabbed her bundle from the chair and unrolled the top blanket and spread it on the floor. Santana cocked her head and looked at Brittany with curiosity.

"What are you doing?"

"Well we're not leaving till after the storm blows over. We might as well be comfortable." Brittany tugged on Santana's hand until they were both kneeling on the makeshift bed. She set down a bag of crackers and random food she had brought and a thermos. "I brought you something to eat if you want."

But when Brittany looked up, it was clear Santana wasn't interested in the food or the hot chocolate Brittany had brought. This close, Brittany couldn't resist. She reached up and cupped Santana's face again. Santana eagerly pushed forward to meet Brittany's kiss. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to be pulled down to the ground. Brittany's leg bumped against hers. Her free hand found the corner of the other blanket and dragged it over their bodies. Santana ran her hand through Brittany's long blonde hair until she found the back of her neck. She closed her eyes and couldn't believe she was making out in the middle of the town records, but at that moment, she couldn't imagine wanting to be anywhere else.


	22. December 22nd

**So I'm changing the rating now, because I know I'll forget to and someone will get all upset that I didn't change it before posting. So, yes, that is a change in rating you're seeing. But I don't want any of you to get confused or even hopeful, Brittana will not be participating in any of the scenes featured in Sugar's fic: **_**Scrooflake: We're Going Down at the Tree **_**or her sequel: _Snooge: Scroo-ing Flake._**** There isn't a rating level that would be appropriate for that fic on FF. ;D hahaha**

* * *

><p><strong>DJ Snowflake and Scrooge<strong>

**December 22**

_7:01 am_

_Poke.  
><em>_Poke.  
><em>_Poke._

Something cold, hard, and pointed shoved itself underneath Santana's nose. She didn't notice it at first. It was the first time she had a complete night of sleep – sleep uninhibited by phantom Rachel Berry, the sound of Christmas music, or general uneasiness. No, tonight, she had fallen asleep. A hand that didn't belong to her, naturally rested over her hipbone underneath her sweater. Soft breathing gently moved strands of her dark hair and heated the back of her neck.

_Poke.  
><em>_Poke.  
><em>_Poke.__  
><em>

Santana went to scratch her nose, but her nail scratched against hard metal. Her eyes popped open and crossed in front of her. A metal point attached to a long shaft and mounted on what Santana could only guess was a crossbow aimed right beneath her nose. She sat up on the blanket on the floor and moved back. Her hand hit another body and produced a soft moan. Santana didn't have time to appreciate that Brittany had spent the night with her. The crossbow followed her every moment.

"Who- what-why are you pointing that at me?" Santana demanded. "Back off."

An older woman with her steel grey hair tied back in a severe bun was staring straight at her. The lines in her face were deep, but her hazel eyes were sharp like a bird of prey. Her mouth flattened into a straight line that resembled the shaft of the crossbow bolt pointed straight at Santana.

"Oh my god." Santana's eyes widened. "You're real. You're Doris and you have a fucking crossbow."

"Of course I'm Doris and no _shit_ I've got a crossbow. What else would I have? A can of whipped cream?" Again, she sized Santana up and down as if deciding what she would do with her. "Now, who the fuck are you?"

"I'm here with Mercedes." Santana quickly tried to explain.

Doris's left eyebrow rose so high on her head, Santana was sure Doris's brow would merge with her hairline. The older woman lifted the crossbow even higher. "I may be old, girl, but I'm not blind. I know for a fact, that –" She pointed her weapon at Brittany's blonde hair spilled over the blanket and floor. "-is not Mercedes."

"No shit she isn't Mercedes. I'm the woman Mercedes said would be using to the town records. I'm Santana Lopez. That's Brittany um –" Santana paused and flushed dark red as she realized that she had no idea Brittany's last name was.

"Pierce." Doris completed for Santana. "That's Brittany Pierce, I know who she is and yeah sure you're the New Yorker who's been fucking around my desk at night like you're an elf or the tooth fairy or something."

"I-" Santana looked down. Pierce. Brittany Pierce curled up tighter against her backside to block out the light and keep sleeping.

"What I don't understand is how you don't know who I am. Mercedes told you about me, right?"

"Yeah, I mean she mentioned –" Santana's eyes scanned the crossbow again. "-you and I thought all of those quilting pattern books were yours. I really didn't know you walked around here with a loaded crossbow."

Doris pulled the weapon back and barked in laughter. "It's loaded, but the spring broke a while ago. I wasn't going to shoot you. That would have been too easy. Quilting magazines?" She looked back to her desk and saw the patterns and quilting designs. "Oh." She roared with laughter again. "Those belong to Blaine, my grandson. I only leaf through them when he comes around. He still thinks I'm going to join his quilting circle." She shuddered. "That place is for burn outs and old ladies, but when he sees me looking through his magazine, he stays happy."

"Santana?" Brittany rubbed her eyes and squinted in the light. She propped herself on her elbow and sat up. The blanket slid off her body and disconnected her from Santana. They were both still fully clothed, but Brittany could still feel where Santana backside had pressed into her body seeking warmth last night. With one eye open, she realized they weren't the only ones in the town records. "Doris? What are you doing here?"

"I work here, Brittany." Doris's response was dry, but somewhat amused as if this wasn't her first run in with Brittany. "I was just asking why Ms. Lopez why you were using my office as a picnic area."

"Santana got snowed in last night. I came to keep her company."

"Good. Now you take her somewhere else before you two decide to find another corner to…canoodle."

"We weren't-"

"We'll be out of here as soon as we get our things. Thanks for letting us crash, Doris."

"Whatever." The old woman shrugged and put her crossbow over the top of her desk. She gathered Santana's boxes and placed them in a neat pile next to her.

"Morning." Brittany met Santana's eyes with a mischievous grin. "Not a bad way to spend your first Midtown snow storm, huh?"

Santana rolled her eyes and picked up a box while Brittany gathered the bag of food she brought. "If you think we're going to make that a tradition, you're going to have to start rescuing someone else."

"Maybe-" Brittany bent over next to Santana to grab her second box. Santana felt Brittany's shoulder brush into hers. "-we can find somewhere more comfortable next time."

Brittany's proximity distracted Santana so much, she forgot about picking up the box. Brittany's fingers slipped into the handholds and effectively took the heavy box from Santana's grasp without any protest.

Doris watched the entire interaction with the amusement of a rock. She yawned and commented. "I haven't heard of anyone sneaking in the town hall building to have a picnic since there were rumors of secret passages from the underground railroad."

"We'll be out of here in a few minutes." Brittany answered the older woman good-naturedly, but Santana said nothing. She stopped collecting her belongings and looked straight at Doris stunned.

Santana couldn't believe she hadn't thought of working outside the box. The Hummel's just needed one thing to connect them to the history of Midtown in order to be registered and perhaps to apply for federal and state grants. Brittany had said it last night. Midtown had a long history- a history much longer than Rachel Berry. Sure, Kurt had his collection, but he and his father had so much more. She had wasted so much time wrapped up in Rachel Berry that she had completely overlooked the basic function of the Hummel's building.

Santana dropped the box in her hands back to the floor. Both Brittany and Doris looked at her with curiosity.

"Santana?"

"Give me a second?" She asked Brittany and addressed Doris directly. "You know where everything is in this mess?"

"It's not a mess if you know how to navigate it. I expressly told Ms. Jones that I would be more than willing to show you how to use my catalog system if you asked. Instead, you decided to sneak in at night and fragrantly ignore my system."

"Do you mind showing me how to use it now?"

"Well…" Doris pursed her lips and looked around the town records. It was her special place and Santana had done a fairly good job violating it for the past three weeks. "I guess I can teach you. I'm a firm believer in teaching. I'm not going to pull records for you."

Santana thought Doris would have said no. "Yes. Great. I need to know how to access building plans and deeds."

"So do you need these?" Brittany asked and lifted the box in her hand.

"Yes. You can put it down right there." Santana pointed. She had a thousand thoughts and ideas racing through her head. She picked up her pencil from the desk and tucked it behind her ear. After a minute sorting through the nearest box, Santana realized she had dismissed Brittany. It had not been her intention. She looked up and saw Brittany walking toward the stairs.

"Britt…" Santana dropped her notepad and crossed the town records. Right as Brittany turned to answer Santana, the short brunette caught her wrist. Brittany twisted around and found herself in the middle of a kiss. Santana stood on her toes and lifted herself up to press her lips hard against Brittany's mouth. She pulled back and smiled. "Thank you."

Not that she didn't mind kissing Santana, but Brittany didn't know what she did. "For what?"

"Last night." Santana smiled and bit her bottom lip for a second as if deciding if she wanted to say more. Brittany threaded their fingers and wished she could have done more, but Doris shouted across the room that she wasn't going to spend all morning teaching Santana anything if she was going to spend it kissing Brittany. Santana rolled her eyes, but Brittany could see genuine excitement bubbling through Santana's expression. Whatever thought she had was enough that she wanted to get to work with Doris right away.

Brittany released Santana's hand and let her rejoin the old town hall employee.

* * *

><p><em>10:26 am<em>

"How long has she been down here?" Mercedes asked quietly from the bottom of the stairs.

"A few hours." Brittany answered with a soft smile.

"Are you the reason she's here?"

Brittany shook her head no. She took a sip of the hot chocolate in her hand. Her bright blue eyes followed Santana around the room. Since Santana had kissed her, she had been working with, fighting with, arguing with, and listening to Doris. They moved around the town records like two mini tornadoes or perhaps the correct term was volcanoes as both of them were prone to explosion at any moment.

"Then what are you doing here?"

Brittany passed Mercedes one of the coffee cups from the holder in her other hand. She had wandered down through the snow to the diner down the street. Mercedes took the cup without question. Santana owed her a coffee; this would be the closest she would get to getting one back from her friend.

"I just thought I would get them some liquid breakfast as it looks like they'll be here for long time." Brittany casually shrugged. "She's kinda cute when she's intense like this."

"Lucky for you, she's always this intense." Mercedes snorted into her coffee.

"I don't know…" Brittany remembered Santana's arm draped around her body underneath the blanket last night. She remembered how light her laugh could be over the phone when she wasn't Scrooge on the radio. Brittany loved how Santana's eyes softened and deepened when Brittany kissed her.

"Brittany, I don't know what you're planning or who you think Santana is, but I hope you figure it out soon. She's leaving before Christmas."

Brittany misjudged her drink and burned her tongue on her hot chocolate. For the first time since Mercedes had joined her, Brittany faced the mayor's aide. "But Christmas is in three days."

"I know." Mercedes stated, but her eyes betrayed a touch of compassion. "That's why I'm telling you now. Santana is…" Mercedes searched for the word. "Santana. She's stubborn and difficult and I think she actually likes you which means she's going to bolt. She doesn't like good-byes especially when she doesn't want to say good-bye."

"Oh." Brittany swallowed hard.

"If it makes you feel any better, I've never seen her this way, but I'm sure you'll both be over it soon. It's not like this was anything more than a holiday fling, right?" Mercedes shrugged. "Thanks for the coffee, Brittany. You know I should talk to Holly about running a few ads for some upcoming town events on your program."

"Yeah-" Brittany nodded distractedly. "You should talk to Holls about that."

Mercedes had done everything in her power to help her best friend. She hadn't lied to Brittany. In the past two weeks, Santana had a glow and her eyes lit up for no apparent reason. Of course Mercedes had discerned the reason before she even knew Brittany's name.

Santana and Mercedes had been through just about everything together in college and continued to be close after. Mercedes had seen Santana stumble her way through relationship after relationship, but this was the first time Mercedes had witnessed her best friend trip. Mercedes knew why Santana balked. There was nothing like the sensation of falling. When the bottom drops out, it's impossible to know if you're going to land or hit the ground.

Mercedes walked away, but not without a sense of satisfaction. Whether Santana would act on the way Brittany made her feel was one thing, but Mercedes had a sense that Brittany wouldn't let Santana walk away without at least asking her to stay. Mercedes could see Brittany's eyes intently focused on Santana.

There wasn't much more she could do, but Mercedes had a feeling it would somehow work out. Whether Santana believed it or not, there was something magical about this time of year.

Drawn by a magnetism Brittany couldn't control, she gazed across the room back to the Santana. It was just a holiday fling – that's what Mercedes said. Santana turned around. For the first time since Brittany had returned from the diner, Santana noticed the blonde standing at the bottom of the stairs. She stopped yelling at Doris for a half-second. She flashed Brittany a smile that Brittany couldn't imagine Santana giving to anyone else. It made Brittany believe if Santana could, she would touch Brittany and kiss her like she did the night before.

Just as quickly as Santana smiled at her, she turned back to continue yelling at Doris.

It was just a holiday fling.

Brittany couldn't believe that, but did Santana?

Brittany smiled back as best she could. She placed the remaining two coffees in the holder on Doris's desk. Brittany didn't know what to feel. They had only known each other's names for a week, but Brittany felt certain she wanted say Santana's name for a lifetime. Last night had not been enough.

She didn't linger. Brittany gathered her blankets and left.

Santana smelled the coffee and stopped listening to Doris for a second. "Brittany?"

But she was gone. Santana frowned and picked up the closest coffee. She turned it in her hands and read the message written in sharpie on the cup.

_Call me anytime you want to be rescued. –BSP_


	23. December 23rd

**DJ Snowflake and Scrooge**

**December 23  
><strong>_9:29 am_

It was hard to believe Santana was back in the town records. Even more unbelievable, she wasn't there alone. Doris stood a few feet away. She polished her crossbow and pursed her lips. Kurt and Burt sat on fold-out chairs Mercedes had brought down from the town hall meeting room. Mercedes sat in another office chair near Doris. It was hard to believe three people could share a space Santana and Doris had fought all over the day before. There had hardly been enough room for Santana's and Doris's egos.

Santana rubbed the circles from her eyes and tried to imagine what a hot cup of coffee would do for her. She and Doris had practically lived in the archives for the past twenty-four hours. In fact, Santana had actually gone well past the twenty-four hour mark at the town hall. It was only after Mercedes's annoyed and tired insistence that Doris go home and Santana spend the night at her place, that Santana had finally left. Again Mercedes's boyfriend slept on the couch while Santana had slept in her best friend's bed.

It should have been a peaceful night's sleep. She had been exhausted. She had worked all day and into the night. She had argued and fought with Doris during half or it. She had spent a good portion of that time reorganizing the town records and paperwork in a more efficient manner. She should have fallen asleep with ease. Mercedes was out in a minutes.

Santana, however, tossed and turned. She could clearly see the lights from the town tree filter through the bedroom. She saw shadows shift on the walls and the creaks of an old house still settling. She had spent the night listening to the sound of WMHS 97.3 from the downstairs radio. Every three or four songs, the music would stop and Santana would hear the faint muffle of a voice Santana knew belonged to Brittany. Her voice touched Santana's fingertips and worked through her body until she was too awake, too desirous, too worked up to try to go to sleep. Santana pretended it wasn't Brittany's voice that set her heart racing and her breathing shallow, but by 3 am, Santana waited impatiently for the next time she could discern Brittany's voice from the rest of the Christmas songs. Around 3:30am, Brittany had gone off the air and Santana finally stopped waiting to hear the DJ's voice.

"Now I don't want you to get too excited because this is only a start." Santana warned. She disliked false hope. It bred an anxious state of constant anticipation that only amounted to frustration and resentment. Santana looked into Kurt's and Burt's faces. She could already see they didn't hear the warning in her tone or understood that what she offered could easily be nothing.

"Go on." Kurt nodded in encouragement.

She blinked hard and tried to stifle another yawn. "I know you asked Mercedes to bring me to the bed and breakfast because you wanted me to find a way to connect your bed and breakfast to a person of significance, like Rachel Berry. And Mercedes thought I could help because I work at an archive, but registration and historical sites are not even close to my field. So I worked with what you guys gave me – a lot of Rachel Berry stuff."

"But after I spent the night in the town records-"

"You spent the night here?" Burt asked with concern.

Kurt frowned and glanced around the condition of the room with obvious disapproval. "Glad to see you survived your adventurous night out."

Santana licked her lips with annoyance at the interruptions. "-yes, with Brittany. I was fine."

"_With Brittany?"_ Kurt turned around completely in his chair to "whisper" his shock to Mercedes. Mercedes pretended she didn't hear Kurt's question, but her eyes held more amusement than a response would have given him.

"As I was saying, it became clear that I should have just stuck with what I'm good at – which is documents." Santana shifted papers on Doris's desk with excitement. "There is so much history here in Midtown, it should be easy to connect your bed and breakfast to a large amount of historical significance. So I –"

Doris coughed hard and readjusted the crossbow in her hand.

Santana adjusted her statement. "So we started to research the actual bed and breakfast building. It wasn't easy. This room has everything– "Santana wistfully looked back at all of the boxes and papers scattered around. Essentially, it was like a historical vault. "It has building plans, blue prints, deeds, land markers, census records. You have no idea."

"So what did you find?"

"Nothing." Santana flippantly stated.

"What?" Kurt, Burt, and even Mercedes expressed doubt and disappointment at Santana's answer.

"At first." Santana smirked. She carefully placed a floor plan of the Hummel's Bed and Breakfast on Doris's desk. "You should know what this is."

"It's the B&B." Burt leaned over the oversized paper. "I have a copy of this exact plan in my office."

Santana nodded. "Doris and I continued going through any records on your bed and breakfast, Burt. Eventually we came across this old floor plan from 1857." Santana very carefully placed a much older document over the one she had already shown the Hummels. It was stained and worn. There was a scorch mark at the top left corner and some ink from another document had stained into the paper.

Burt glanced over the plan with a frown. "It's still our bed and breakfast. It's a much older plan, but we haven't changed the building – ever. It's not in our nature. The Hummels have always wanted to keep the integrity of the building."

"And you did." Santana pointed to one of the rooms in the center of the plan. "Do you recognize this room? It's the Rachel Berry room. The one I've been sleeping in. Do you see what's missing?"

Kurt's eyes widened. "The mantle wall. There's a second wall right behind it. But why?"

"Great question." Santana lifted her hand to a stack of very old building plans on another desk. "All of these buildings have rooms and walls that were obscured by building plans drawn after 1858. After some more research -" Santana glanced to a stack of notes. "-Doris and I think a majority of the town had been part of the underground railroad."

"What?" Burt and Kurt looked at each other. "We had no idea."

"I didn't either." Mercedes stood up from her chair and approached the desk. "Can you prove this?"

Doris shrugged. "The building plans are there. Just got to find the hidden rooms and put names to whoever lived there at the time."

Mercedes pulled out her cell phone, but quickly discovered she had no service in the basement. She excused herself to walk upstairs. Kurt and Burt pointed back to the plan on the desk as if trying to decide what they wanted do with the information given to them. Santana smiled softly to herself at the thought of knocking down the wall where Rachel Berry's portrait hung over the mantle. It would be such sweet revenge.

But…

It wasn't about revenge or even history. This was about what was best for Burt and Kurt. Santana swallowed hard and couldn't believe what she was about to say.

"Kurt. Burt. I know you have a lot to think about and I'm not here to run your bed and breakfast, but I don't think you should give up the Rachel Berry angle. Mercedes just left to make a call. I can guarantee you, she's calling the mayor to see how they can make Midtown a destination for history buffs. She'll want to get access to every single house, building, and church connected to this."

"People will come because people love a bit of history, especially the kind where strangers help strangers, but what you have with your connection to Rachel Berry and her –" The words seemed foreign and like a concession of defeat. Santana hoped Rachel's ghost couldn't hear her or she would be sucked into another dream just to hear the diva gloat. "- legacy, is something very unique. It makes your bed and breakfast special and different. I really think you should unpack all those boxes, decorate the B&B in outlandish and gaudy Rachel-fashion, and make something of a winter/Christmas destination for people who love her music." Santana continued. "In the summer, you can be part of the Underground Railroad circuit like Mercedes and the mayor will want you to be."

"Wow…" Kurt dragged out the word. "You're right, we have a lot to process, but-"

"We're grateful to have even something to process!" Burt opened his arms and walked around the desk to embrace Santana in a great hug. Santana tried to pull back, but was unsuccessful. She struggled, but when Kurt hugged her around his father, she stopped trying to break free.

"I was just doing it for Mercedes."

"And because she's incredibly good with documents." Doris stated as a matter of fact behind their group hug. "I haven't seen someone that enthused about sorting through documents since I watched my grandson go crazy in the patterns and quilting section during his first time at one of those Jo-Ann Fabric Superstores."

"We're treating you tonight, Santana! Back at the bed and breakfast!" Burt exclaimed. "A big dinner. Lots of wine or whatever you want. Doris, you can certainly join us. We can invite Mercedes and her boyfriend Sam, and you could even see if Brittany's available since she must have helped you research the other night."

"I-" Santana flushed at the mention of Brittany.

"Kurt, we've got so much to prepare. I'll start making some phone calls."

"Wait." Santana swallowed hard. "I can't stay."

"Nonsense." Kurt waved her off.

"No, I mean I have to get back to New York. I missed three calls from my boss yesterday while I was working down here."

Burt shook his head in disbelief. "But it's two days before Christmas. What could your work need you to do right before the holidays? I'm sure if you called back and explained you're spending an extra day here, they would understand."

Santana swallowed. She finished her 'job' here. Mercedes would be happy. Santana helped Kurt and Burt, and unintentionally, Santana and Doris might have helped Mercedes and the town. There was no reason to stay. If she packed her car and started driving to New York, she could make it to the archives just after dark and Terri wouldn't been too upset that she hadn't arrived earlier.

"It doesn't work like that."

The absolute statement set both Kurt and Burt back.

"Well, you tell us what you need and we'll make sure you have it before you go."

* * *

><p>"You shouldn't have done that, Kurt." Burt chided his son.<p>

"I did nothing." Kurt stated and turned his nose up.

"You can't meddle in the lives of our guests when they stay here."

"The only reason we're even going to have guests is because of Santana." Kurt looked through the curtain of the office. Santana lifted a bag and threw it into the trunk of her car. Snow was still all over the parking lot, but their plow guys had at least made Hummel's accessible. Still, she almost slipped on a patch of ice. She caught herself, straightened, and proceeded to cuss out the weather. "So I'm going to try to help her before she leaves."

"You still shouldn't have done that." Burt stated, but he too gazed out the window with curiosity.

* * *

><p>"Terri, I don't know what to tell you, I'm literally in my car on the way back to New York. I'll be there in a few hours. Yes, I did contact the cleaning crew. They should already be there working." Santana frowned. "No, I'm not there to supervise. I will be soon. Yes, I do understand this my opportunity to impress you. Yes, I can manage. I know I'm not there."<p>

Santana leaned against the side of the rental car. She gritted her teeth with every word. It was probably a good thing she was outside in the freezing cold to keep her anger from boiling over.

"I don-"

The sound of another vehicle driving down the street stopped Santana's words. She had stayed at the Hummel's Bed and Breakfast for the past three weeks. The only time she had seen another car this far out here had been when Brittany had stolen her away to carol for the night. The red scarf around her neck caught the wind and gently waved. Santana followed the direction of the scarf and the wind toward the entrance of the parking lot.

Santana stood up from the car. Her stomach fluttered as she recognized Brittany's familiar blue colored truck. Brittany still had the bright red plow attached to the front of her truck. Garland, bells, and snowman decorated the cab. Brittany parked the truck a few spaces down from Santana, opened her truck, slammed the door, and walked determinedly across the parking lot.

The cell phone hanging in Santana's hand made muffled noises. "_Santana. Santana? Santana! Where are you?"_

Santana's heart beat faster and faster upon every step of Brittany's approach. Santana had never known what it was like to be the sole desire of another person, but in that moment, she could feel Brittany approaching with the intent to make that feeling known to Santana.

Santana didn't have a chance to answer her boss. Brittany grabbed her hand with the cell phone and pushed it down to her side completely. Her other hand cupped Santana's face and tilted her chin up. Santana forgot the cold, the car, the ice, and her boss. Kissing Brittany was like fire; the kind that burned slow in her core and ignited sparks all over her body. Brittany pressed her against the side of her rental car. Her hips were hard and insistent, but her gloved fingers were soft and tender.

The sound of excited clapping from the front door of the bed and breakfast interrupted their moment.

Brittany pulled back. They both glanced over to see Kurt enthusiastically shouting and whooping.

"This isn't one of your shows, Kurt." Santana yelled. "Go back inside."

"And miss this? Hell no." Kurt turned back into the house. "Dad! Brittany just made a huge entrance. You're missing everything!"

"Hi." Brittany said. She pulled back with a smile.

"Hey." Santana answered breathlessly and ignored Kurt.

"I heard you might not be sticking around for Christmas…" Brittany brushed back some of Santana's hair.

"I'm not. I finished my job here and my boss needs me." Santana glanced to her phone. She could hear Terri yelling for her. She couldn't believe she actually didn't want to answer. All she wanted was to get back to her job when she arrived in Midtown and now all she could think about how she could stay.

Undeterred, Brittany shrugged. "I was just hoping you'd be available for Christmas. I run an all-night Christmas radio show you might have heard about." Brittany winked. "I thought maybe if you wanted, you could spend Christmas Eve with me in the studio. It could be the start of a new Christmas tradition- our Christmas tradition. Holly won't be there. It would just be you and me."

"You want me to spend Christmas with you?" Santana didn't know what to say. Her heart pounded. She thought about the evening before in Mercedes's bed when she spent the entire night listening to Brittany's voice.

"That's all I want and I hope I'm not wrong by thinking you could want that too."

"_Santana!" _The phone screamed.

"Shit." Santana picked up the phone and placed it to her ear. She shied away from Brittany's gaze as she walked away. "No, I'm sorry Terri. I'm still on my way. I was just talking to a friend I saw at the gas station. I'm half way to New York. I swear."

Brittany didn't understand. "Just hang up the phone and stay here, Santana. It's Christmas."

"I can't." Santana shook her head as she hung up the phone. "That's my boss. I have a job. I have a life and it's not here in Midtown. It's been…" She didn't want to use the word fun because that wasn't the word to describe the way Brittany made her feel. Santana didn't want to make this worse than it was; she just wanted to get this over with. "I'm sorry."

"What?"

Santana took another step away from her and looked over to the front door. "Kurt, tell your dad thanks for everything. I've got to get out of here before I'm too late."

"Santana?" Brittany stepped back to allow her space to get into the rental car.

Before Santana could listen to another word, she opened the car door. She tried to shove the keys into the ignition, but missed several times before she found the slot.

Brittany moved away from the car. Santana opened her mouth, but had no words. She had spent enough time in Midtown. She had spent enough time away from reality, and Midtown wasn't her reality; Brittany wasn't her reality. Determined to suppress any more emotions, Santana pulled out of the parking lot without looking back. It was time to move on.


	24. Christmas Eve

**I hope you guys didn't think that was going to be your only Christmas Eve chapter because that would have been rude of me. Remember, this is a GayHallmarkChristmasMovie, there has to be a little angst at the end. ;D**

**Santana and Doris? Sandoris! Hahaha you guys are cracking me up with these names you're making for all the ships and friendships in this fic. **

* * *

><p><strong>DJ Snowflake and Scrooge<strong>

**December 24  
><strong>**Christmas Eve  
><strong>_2:47 am_

_I'll have a blue Christmas without you  
><em>_I'll be so blue thinking about you_

"Britt, hun, you played that song four times in the past hour." Holly spoke into her headset. "It's practically Christmas Eve. You need to snap out of this, Brittany. I've gotten about a hundred calls asking if DJ Snowflake is okay."

"Britt? Come on. Just say you're happy and excited for Christmas Eve. Remember all the times you practiced saying Merry Christmas? Just start doing that again."

"I'm fine, Holly. I promise. I just need a little bit of time."

"We don't have time. It's Christmas Eve."

Brittany shrugged and turned Holly's feed off.

_Bells will be ringing the glad, glad news  
><em>_Oh what a Christmas to have the blues_

* * *

><p><em>3:51 pm<em>

"So you got in okay?" Mercedes's voice was terse and annoyed. Santana could hear the agitation dripping with every word.

"I'm good. I got back last night." Santana cautiously answered. She didn't want to incur any more of her friend's ire.

"Well isn't that nice." Mercedes said through the phone. Santana could hear that she wasn't going to escape unscathed. "Because could you believe my surprise and alarm when I heard from Kurt that you had skipped out of town without at least saying good-bye to me? Do you know who I am, Santana?"

"You're m-"

Mercedes cut in before Santana could finish talking. "Your best damn friend, Santana! You do _not_ pull that kind of stunt with me. Do you understand me?"

Santana swallowed hard and fought back the mounting guilt Mercedes added to her already shitty feelings. "Yes, Mercedes. I'm sorry, but I had to get back to work. Terri wouldn't hear no."

"Terri wouldn't hear no?" Mercedes scoffed in disbelief. "Did you finish what she wanted? Does your boss realize that it's Christmas Eve?"

"She's hosting a dinner for the board in the new renovations tonight."

"You're going right?"

Santana paused. "I don't know yet."

"She invited you though?"

"Yes, more as a way of ensuring she'd have someone to blame if anything went wrong, but yes, I'm supposed to go." Santana stood up from her vanity and finished putting in her earrings. She smoothed down her black dress and looked herself over in the mirror. She looked ready for a business party, but she didn't feel like it.

Santana had spent most of the day avoiding any reminders that tomorrow was Christmas, but everyone wished her a happy holiday. Christmas music played over every radio station and in every building. It was unavoidable. Everything reminded her of Midtown. Everything reminded her of Brittany's offer.

_It could be the start of a new Christmas tradition- our Christmas tradition. Holly won't be there. It would just be you and me._

"What are you and Stanley doing for Christmas?"

Mercedes didn't give Santana the satisfaction of becoming exasperated for correcting her for the hundredth time. "His name is Sam and he's cooking Christmas Eve dinner right now." Mercedes paused and sighed in exasperation. "Are you really going to spend your Christmas Eve with a bunch of people you don't know and a shitty boss who is never going to put you in a management position?"

"It's my job."

Mercedes groaned. "Santana, I have a job too, but you know it's not going to stop me from celebrating the holidays the way I want and spending them with the people I care about."

Santana stopped applying eye liner and placed the pencil down on the counter in her bathroom. She glanced down at the cell phone on speaker. Santana didn't know what Kurt told Mercedes or if she knew about anything that happened at the bed and breakfast. But not talking about it was slowing killing her. She had been miserable and distracted.

_It could be the start of a new Christmas tradition- our Christmas tradition. Holly won't be there. It would just be you and me._

She couldn't stop thinking about Brittany or that kiss or the past three weeks in Midtown.

Without thinking, Santana blurted out what had been on her mind since she had said no. "She invited me to spend Christmas Eve with her."

"What?"

"Brittany –" Santana clarified with some difficulty. It was the first time she said Brittany's name out loud since the bed and breakfast."-invited me to spend Christmas Eve with her at the studio."

Mercedes's elongated silence was enough to answer the terrible nagging Santana had felt. "And what did you say?"

Santana swallowed hard and avoided looking at the mirror in her bathroom. "I told her no and that I had to leave."

"I see…" Mercedes trailed off. The silence between them grew. Santana felt her stomach tighten in knots. "Santana, I can't tell you what to do with your life. My question is what do you really want?"

What did she want?

Maybe it was the way Mercedes said it or the way Santana had been replaying every conversation she had with Brittany, but she suddenly remembered Brittany's question when they had been flirting over the radio station.

_What do you want for Christmas?_

The answer became painfully obvious. So obvious, that without answering, Santana rushed out of the bathroom, flipped off the lights, grabbed her coat, and the keys to the rental car she hadn't returned yet and slammed the door to her apartment closed.

"Santana?" Mercedes questioned. She could hear a lot of movement through the phone on Santana's end.

"Fuck." Santana answered breathlessly into her the phone. She ran in heels down three flights of stairs. "I'm a fucking idiot."

"Mhmmm." Mercedes made a sound of agreement in the back of her throat and pursed her lips. It was the first time Santana said something that made sense.

Santana once again struggled to insert the key to the car in the ignition. She peeled out of her space on the street and sped down her block. "I'm leaving right now." She glanced to the clock. "I might make it before midnight if I'm lucky. God, this is just like an awful lifetime movie, Mercedes. What the hell am I doing?"

"Santana, it's only a lifetime movie if you _actually _get the girl." Mercedes smirked. "So, I don't want to hear from you again until you find Brittany and you tell her you're a fucking idiot yourself. It probably wouldn't hurt to kiss her too."

"Thanks, Cedes. I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything. You're my best friend and I do love you, but this whole Brittany thing is all you; it just takes your dumb ass longer to figure these things out."

* * *

><p><em>9:39 pm<em>

"Hey, hun." Holly stood in the doorway of the studio. "I don't have to go tonight. I can stay and keep you company."

"No." Brittany shook her head. The bells in her reindeer headband jingled, but they sounded a lot more excited than she felt. "It's your big night with the family. Go have fun. I've got this."

"Alright…" Holly said, but she lacked confidence in her employee's current state of mind. "But if you need me, you better call me, okay? I'm going to be listening to you the entire time when I'm at my family dinner. My aunts love the show and they've already asked if you could dedicate a few songs for them. I'll text you when they make a decision on what they want to hear."

"No problem! They will get the most excited and enthused Christmas dedication this DJ Snowflake can give them."

"They better." Holly winked. "Now…don't forget Sue isn't doing her show tomorrow so you can stay and run your show as long as you want. Since it's Christmas, I don't think anyone will complain if they get to hear your voice in the morning again."

"Sure. Sure."

"Umm-" Holly frowned. "I'm putting you back on the radio in the morning and you don't even thank me?" She undid her coat and put her bags down in the sound booth. "That's it! I'm staying. You need an intervention."

Brittany quickly snapped out of her funk as she realized Holly was serious about staying. "No! Holly! I'm fine! I'm super excited to work all the way through the morning show. It's going to be the best Christmas Eve show Midtown has ever had! I promise! And I swear I won't play _The Chipmunk Song_ or make fun of Sue too much once I start the morning block."

"That's my girl." Holly winked with relief. "And, hun, you can make fun of Sue as much as you want. I have a feeling she's not going to listen to any show you host – morning or night."

* * *

><p><em>10:51 pm<em>

The familiar sign shown like a beacon in the dark winter night: Roz's Golden Pump.

Santana pulled up to the gas station parking lot. She couldn't believe she was here again – not just at the gas station, but back in Midtown. There was no time to wonder about how her life had ended up so insane. For the past thirty minutes, she had tried to find the address to WMHS 97.3 radio station on her phone with Siri with no luck. It was by chance that she thought of stopping at the gas station.

It had been Mercedes who had first told Santana if she didn't ask for directions, then it was her own damn fault if she got lost.

Santana ripped open the gas station doors. Her heels made very distinct clicking sounds as she crossed to the counter.

_I just don't see the point of Same Auld Lang Syne as a Christmas song. Just a reminder, I will not be taking requests tonight. Go be with your loved ones and let DJ Snowflake bring you into Christmas Morning with whatever songs I want to play._

Santana almost tripped. She looked up in confusion. Brittany wasn't taking requests on Christmas Eve? That would explain why Brittany hadn't picked up when Santana called the studio. She tried Brittany's cell phone once, but it went straight to voicemail.

"Sugar!" Santana shouted as she approached the counter. "SUGAR! Where are you? I need you!"

A head from below the counter popped up with a candy cane dangling from her mouth. Her eyes went wide at the sight of Santana.

"Oh. My. God." The candy cane dropped from her mouth and shattered against the counter. "You're here."

"Yes and I-"

"Ohmygod." Sugar's voice darkened with anger. "You're here. Where have you been? DJ Snowflake has been a disaster on the air for the past two nights and everyone on the message boards said it was because you left. I didn't believe them. I mean she saved you the other day in the snowstorm and you guys had that moment at the tree ceremony then you called in and flirted with her. It was perfect! But when the DJ started only playing the most depressing Christmas songs ever, what else could I believe?"

"Sugar, liste-"

"No! You ruined DJ Snowflake! You ruined Christmas!"

"Sugar, that's why I'm here. I need to find her. I was wrong for leaving, but I can't find the studio address. I need to know where she is. I need directions!"

"You're going to apologize?" Sugar narrowed her eyes.

"Yes. I just hope it's not too late." Santana earnestly pleaded with the gas station attendant.

"So you're going to meet her now? At the studio? And tell her you're sorry and that you love her?" Sugar's excitement rose with every question and direction her mind went.

"Love? I didn't say that – I don't know if I love her. I just know I'll never forgive myself if I don't see her tonight."

"OHMYGOD! YOU LOVE HER!" Sugar screeched.

"Yes! Oh my god!" Santana shouted back. "Now stop saying that and help me!"

Sugar waved her hands excitedly in her face in an uncontrollable flailing motion. "You need directions. I know where the studio is but I'm awful at directions! This is a nightmare! I can't help. I need to help! What if I'm the reason DJ Snowflake and Scrooge don't get back together?! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod."

Santana could feel her patience dwindling. She glanced to the clock. "Come on, Sugar! Just tell me where the studio is!"

"The map!" Sugar screamed. "Where's the map! I can circle it for you on the map!"

"Are you fucking kidding me? The map?" Santana yelled in utter disbelief, but she headed straight for the door.

A few seconds later she came running back into the gas station. The obnoxiously oversized map trailed behind her and dragged on the floor. She spread the sheet across the counter. "Where is it?"

"Okay. This is where we are." Sugar circled a spot on the map with her red lipstick and then drew a line along a few roads to a spot quite a few miles away. "And that's where DJ Snowflake is."

"Thank you." Santana bundled the map together. "Thank you!"

"Go! Go! Go! Go!" Sugar shouted as Santana ran through the gas station.

Back in her car, Santana spread the map across her dashboard and studied the lines Sugar drew.

A familiar and ironic thought crossed her head as she followed the red lipstick line with her finger and mouthed the names of roads out loud. How hard could using a map really be?

* * *

><p>"EVANS! TURN ON YOUR RADIO RIGHT NOW! SCROOGE IS ON HER WAY TO SNOWFLAKE! I REPEAT SCROOGE IS ON HER WAY TO SNOWFLAKE! CALL AND TEXT EVERYONE YOU KNOW! THIS IS SO HAPPENING!"<p> 


	25. Christmas Day

**Just wanted to thank everyone for a wonderful journey. This Christmas fic has been quite an experience. One, I'm not so sure I would repeat because it is freaking hard to write a chapter and update daily. Mad respect to anyone who does this. **

**I never thought so many people would read, review, or genuinely enjoy DJ Snowflake & Scrooge since it was a crazy idea. THANK YOU! It's been amazing to get so much feedback. **

**Once again, this wouldn't have been possible without Whitney's brainstorming, ideas, posters, and edits. And I would have NEVER come close to posting daily without my girlfriend, Gab, editing chapters and revisions on the fly every day and night. **

**Happy any Holiday you celebrate! Hope you all enjoy it. :D**

**(Sorry the post came late. I had a little too much fun with Christmas booze, fireworks, and my cousins yesterday.)**

**-Kell**

* * *

><p><strong>DJ Snowflake and Scrooge<strong>

**December 25  
><strong>**Christmas  
><strong>_12:00 am_

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!"

Applause, jingle bells, choirs, and trumpets blasted on recorded sound tracks. Brittany paused for a second to let the enormity of the moment sink in for anyone still listening to the radio.

There were parts of the world already celebrating their Christmas mornings, but at this moment, it only mattered that it was officially Christmas morning here in Midtown. It was hard to let her poor mood affect her in this moment. It was Christmas. There would be children trying to sleep, Christmas lullabies sung, parents frantically wrapping gifts, and spouses trying to wrap gifts for their significant others in secrecy. Hopeful magic infused the entire season.

"Merry Christmas!" Brittany shouted again but with a little less enthusiasm. She was grateful for the times she had practiced shouting Merry Christmas throughout the month. "Let's get ready for Santa, family, and the best time of the year! I hope you're with loved ones and you're enjoying the anticipation of Christmas morning. Don't forget who's been bringing you holiday cheer all season long. You are rocking into December 25th with DJ Snowflake on WMHS 97.3!"

_Have yourself a merry little Christmas  
><em>_May your heart by light  
><em>_From now on, our troubles will be out of sight_

Brittany spun listlessly in her chair. Red lights erupted all over her dash. When she had originally planned the show with Holly, Brittany had wanted to take calls and broadcast callers wishing each other Merry Christmas, but Brittany hadn't taken a call on the air since the possibility that one of those callers could be Scrooge ended.

She spun and spun in her chair. Strings of snowflakes and garland around the booth created a blend of Christmas colors around her, but it was hard to feel excited when her heart wasn't in it.

_Have yourself a merry little Christmas  
><em>_Make the Yuletide gay  
><em>_From now on your trouble will be miles away_

The bells in her reindeer headband jingled like light accompaniment to the song. The red lights continued to flash in beats. Brittany stopped spinning and puffed her cheeks out. She checked over her board and fiddled with the sound. She took a bite from one of the cookies Holly had left her and sipped at her cup of hot chocolate.

_But 'til then we'll have to muddle through somehow  
><em>_And have yourself a merry little Christmas now_

As the song faded out, Brittany turned her mic back on. The red lights for callers had only increased in the past few minutes. It was hard to continue ignoring them, but she didn't trust herself to be the DJ Snowflake Holly needed her to be tonight on the phone.

"That was _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas _and I can't think of a song more appropriate to start this Christmas morning. We're about to get into an extra-long block of Rachel Berry songs from her first album. I just wanted to remind everyone listening that I will not be taking requests tonig-"

The sound of the door opening in the studio was distinct. It changed the air in the room. Brittany couldn't believe Holly didn't trust her. She had been behaving herself. Brittany prepared the next song to start the moment she stopped talking.

Brittany spun her chair once more so she could meet Holly's eyes, but it wasn't Holly at the door. "-tonig-."

There were only three times Brittany had been at a loss for words on air. Every single time had been because of the woman standing at the door. Santana stood at the sound booth door in a long coat, a short black dress, and heels. Her dark eyes reflected the thousands of different emotions Brittany felt. It couldn't be real. Santana couldn't be here. Brittany must have eaten some of Holly's _special_ cookies. It couldn't be Santana, but when Brittany saw the long red scarf around her neck, the same red scarf Brittany wrapped around Santana's neck as part of her Scrooge disguise, Brittany whispered. "Santana?"

"Hi." Santana said first like Brittany did to her numerous times.

Brittany forgot she was still on the air.

"Hey." Brittany barely completed a greeting that had become natural to them.

"I-" Santana immediately tried to explain, to apologize; but she had always been the worst at expressing her feelings. It had never been easy and it was much harder to admit when she had been an idiot. She had practiced what she wanted to say the entire drive back to Midtown. But standing her in front of Brittany, all the words she had practiced escaped her memory.

"What are you doing here?" Brittany asked. She still couldn't believe Santana was back in town, but that she stood here in the WMHS 97.3 studio. "You're supposed to be in New York."

Santana breathed. She had already abandoned her job, left New York and gotten lost six times using Sugar's awful directions and that stupid map. What was she waiting for?

"I heard over the radio that you weren't taking any song requests tonight. I thought maybe you'd make an exception if I called in, but you didn't pick up your phone lines either. So I came here to personally make a request."

Santana didn't apologize with the word sorry, but Brittany heard sincerity in her every word. Brittany remembered when Mercedes had remarked Santana only functioned in intensity, but Brittany had known then, Santana hid sides of softness, sides of vulnerability, and sides of passion. Even now when Santana couldn't find the words, she showed those sides.

"You told me that you would never ever make a song request on my show." Brittany's eyes revealed the slightest hint of memories and curiosity. The DJ pushed the headset back from her ears. She didn't want one word uttered from Santana's lips to be muffled. Again, Brittany forgot to turn off her mic. It picked up and played live every noise in the sound booth.

Santana tilted her head at Brittany's tone. Her heart skipped as she saw the light in Brittany's eyes brighten and her voice bounce with subtle playfulness. "And I meant it. I will never ask you for a song request, not as Scrooge." Santana stepped into the studio. The door closed behind her. "You asked me once what I wanted for Christmas and I finally have an answer. I haven't wanted or asked for anything for Christmas since I was twelve, but this year…I can't stop thinking about one thing." Santana took another step forward and gazed straight into Brittany's eyes.

"And all I want for Christmas is you, Brittany Pierce." Santana's voice wrapped around Brittany's name like secret hope. She only learned Brittany's last name a few days ago, but since Doris had informed Santana that she had spent the night with Brittany Pierce, she had repeated Brittany's full name silently for days.

"I'm not requesting a song as Scrooge, but as Santana. Could you play _All I Want for Christmas is You_ by Mariah Carey?"

Brittany could hardly believe what Santana said. Brittany tried to keep it cool, but it was hard to ignore the feeling produced by Santana's confession. The only thing Santana wanted for Christmas was Brittany. Every word made her heart beat faster and her cheeks flush.

But Santana had stood Brittany up and left with barely an excuse and even if Santana had completely captured every inch of her heart, Brittany had no intention of making it any easier for Santana. She smiled and leaned back in her chair.

"_All I Want for Christmas is You? _I don't know that song." Brittany deadpanned with absolute certainty.

Santana narrowed her eyes. "You're a Christmas only radio show host and you don't know _All I Want for Christmas is You? _You've got to be kidding me."

"Nope." Brittany shook her head. "Never heard it before, but maybe if you could sing a line or two I might recognize it."

"I'm not going to sin-" Santana stopped arguing with Brittany. Brittany's bright blue eyes sparkled with amusement and satisfaction. Brittany was teasing her. Santana quirked her mouth and flashed a toothy smirk as she realized Brittany's game. She bit her bottom lip and took another step forward into the room. "So if I sing a few lines, you _might_ recognize the song?"

"I think it's worth a try. That is, if you're serious about your song request and what you want for Christmas."

Santana swallowed hard and glanced around at their surroundings. They were alone. There was no music. It was just the two of them. What did she have to lose? And if singing a few lines from a song was enough to get even just a few hours with Brittany, she would sing any song.

She took a deep breath.

_I don't want a lot for Christmas  
><em>_There is just one thing I need_

Santana's voice started light and soft unlike when she had belted out every carol to show off in front of Brittany. She knew all the words to the song, but she sang as if she was unsure of herself.

_I don't care about the presents  
><em>_Underneath the Christmas tree_

As Santana sang, her voice grew in confidence and strength until she hit the refrain. Her coat felt heavy; the scarf restricted her throat. She had long since warmed up in the sound booth. She felt compelled to strip away layers, both physically and emotionally. Santana took another step forward. She loosened the buttons of her coat; it dropped to the floor.

_I just want you for my own  
><em>_More than you could ever know_

Brittany clenched her stomach as Santana approached closer and closer. Her eyes roved up and down Santana's outfit. Wow. Brittany dug her ass into the back of the chair and tried not to think about how incredibly amazing and sexy Santana looked. If Santana wanted to recreate their moment in the Hummel's parking lot, she was succeeding. Brittany barely understood the words of the song. She read Santana's sincerity in her eyes. She witnessed Santana's apology as she shed her coat. She felt Santana's desire with body language. Brittany counted the steps between them. She wanted nothing more than to close the distance, but Santana's voice, like a siren's, urged her to remain seated.

Santana stepped into her chair. Her legs brushed against Brittany's jeans. Brittany shivered. Santana leaned over her. Her fingers wrapped around the right arm of her chair. Her nails purposely dragged down her forearm. Dark ringlets of hair hovered over Brittany's chest and tickled the side of her neck.

Santana leaned in. The back of Brittany's chair pushed back against the soundboard as Santana pressed all the way into her body. Brittany turned her head as Santana's soft lips caressed and intimately kissed the back of ear.

"Make my wish come true. All I want for Christmas is you, Brittany."

Santana whispered the final part of the verse as if they were her own words and not lyrics. The effect was more powerful. Brittany shuddered and moaned. "Jingle bel-" Santana cupped her chin and stopped her swearing with a full kiss. Brittany's entire body thrummed with Santana's deep throaty voice and Santana's body pressed completely to hers. She closed her eyes and kissed her back.

But Santana pulled back.

Confused, Brittany looked up as if to ask why they stopped.

Santana ran her index finger underneath Brittany's jaw. Her thumb casually brushed over Brittany's lips. Brittany moaned again. Santana shook her head with a teasing smirk. "Britt, you're going to want to put on my song request now and queue your list because you're going to be a little preoccupied for the next twenty or so songs."

At first, Brittany didn't understand, but she remembered the headset she had discarded. She whipped around and picked up her headset. The mic was still on. "Umm- so here's Mariah Carey singing _All I Want for Christmas is You._ I will start taking requests as soon as –" Santana's hand twirled the wire attached to the headset around on her finger. Brittany bit her bottom lip. Santana brushed aside Brittany's hair and trailed a soft line of kisses down her neck. Brittany tilted her head and bit her bottom lip to prevent herself from moaning directly into the mic. Her voice hitched. "- I welcome Scrooge back to town. You're listening to DJ Snowflake on WMHS 97.3."

Brittany made sure she shut the mic off this time. The song started playing over the broadcast. Santana pushed the headset off Brittany's head. Her nails ran through thick blonde hair. Santana pushed off the reindeer headband. Brittany allowed herself another second of Santana's teasing before she spun in her chair. Her hands held onto either side of Santana's hips.

A small gasp escaped Santana's mouth, but she tilted her head down. Her eyes smoldered with desire – more than when she sang the song. Without breaking eye contact, Santana reached down her body, purposely running her fingers over Brittany's hands on her hips. Santana went past Brittany to the hem of her dress. She bunched the material in her hands and lifted. Without the mic or her headset on, Brittany released an uninhibited moan as Santana straddled either side of her.

Santana's hands wrapped around Brittany's neck as she settled directly into Brittany's lap.

"You know –" Santana breathed the words. "- I had a dream about you, but this is so much better."

Brittany smirked and licked her lips. Her fingers danced down Santana's hips, underneath the bunched material of Santana's dress. They wrapped around Santana's inner thighs and danced beneath the black material. Santana arched her back at the feel of Brittany's hands.

"And what did I do to you in this dream?" Brittany asked. Each word she punctuated by running her nails further up between Santana's spread legs.

Santana rolled her hips forward. She cupped the sides of Brittany's face, leaned forward, and pressed her mouth against Brittany. They kissed her hard. The swivel chair rocked back and forth, but Santana wasn't concerned. She opened her mouth and ran her tongue along Brittany's lip before giving her a little bite. She pulled back and met Brittany's eyes. With a smirk, she whispered in heavy breaths. "Let me show you."

* * *

><p>At Hummel's Bed and Breakfast, Kurt uncorked a bottle of wine and poured a glass for his father. They sat in front of a brilliant fire in the parlor. Kurt smiled and turned the radio up. "I told you it was better than my shows."<p>

At Holly's family party, five aunts, three grandmothers, eleven cousins, and seven grandchildren gathered around the radio. They laughed and toasted each other, DJ Snowflake and Scrooge, Holly, and each other again. Holly's great aunt came up to her with a smirk. "What do you think they are doing over there? I bet you it's not FCC regulated."

"If I know my girl, Brittany, it's most certainly not FCC approved." Holly said with pride. "Maybe that Puckerman's Pool Cleaning Service place can do the sound booth too."

"OHMYGOD! OH MY GOD! MY FEELS! THEY LOVE EACH OTHER!" The lights at Roz's Golden Pump flicked on and off. The light sign brightening and dimmed to the same beat as the song on the radio. She tried calling Sam Evans.

But across town, Sam sat in front of his radio with his girlfriend, Mercedes, right next to him. The radio softly played in the background. Santana's best friend shook her head softly. "Took her long enough. She's so difficult." She turned to Sam. "Thank you for inviting me to listen."

"I just wanted to make sure you didn't miss it." Sam admitted. He paused and decided if he wanted to ask the next question. "Hey, Mercedes, do you think I could ask Santana to autograph my DJ Snowflake and Scrooge t-shirt?"

Mercedes didn't know if she wanted to kick him back down to the couch or kiss him for being so wonderful. "Why don't you ask Santana the next time you see her?"

It would be more entertaining to see Santana's reaction anyway.

* * *

><p><em>7:15 am <em>

"No, not that button." Brittany laughed into Santana's ear. She wrapped her arm around Santana's bare waist and pointed to another switch on the dashboard.

Santana wiggled in Brittany's lap and leaned over the sound board to press the button Brittany wanted her to touch. She noticed all the blinking red lights to the right side of Brittany's booth. "What are all of these?"

"Those are all the callers we've been ignoring since we started _welcoming_ you back." Brittany said with a smile. Her fingers danced along Santana's stomach. The woman in her lap responded by leaning back into Brittany's check. Brittany moaned at the feel of Santana's backside pressed against her naked chest. Brittany's other hand reached around and pulled the blanket she had found in the Holly's closet around them tighter.

Santana smirked. "So we probably shouldn't keep them waiting. Maybe we should at least let your listeners know you're alive and okay."

"I'm alive, but –" Brittany's legs shifted as she remembered Santana's hands and mouth all over her body. "-I'm definitely not okay." Brittany's eyes fell on the discarded headset and she had a brilliant idea. "How about you tell them?"

Brittany reached over Santana's body and grabbed the headset. She placed it over Santana's head.

"What are you doing?" Santana reached up and touched the headset.

"It's easy. You're already a radio personality. Just say whatever you want and it will be perfect and I'll play the next song."

"Bu-"

"I'm sure there's some way I can convince you to do it." Brittany kissed down the side of Santana's neck. Brittany whispered underneath Santana's ear. "You look really hot with these on."

Santana softly moaned and conceded. "Fine."

"Okay so when you're ready, flip this switch and just talk like you normally would when you call into the station." Brittany pressed a few other buttons and redid a few of the songs coming up. "And go."

Santana took a deep breath, flipped the switch and turned half way around in Brittany's lap so she could see Brittany's bright blue eyes. With all of Brittany's confidence and swagger, Santana spoke into the mic. "This is Scrooge broadcasting live with DJ Snowflake. We just wanted to wish everyone a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Brittany leaned into the mic and added. "Thank you for making WMHS 97.3 your one and only Christmas radio station. Merry Christmas!"

* * *

><p><strong>End<strong>


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